UC-NRLF 


HI 


K 


OF  E 


BAX&KD 


/  ST.  SON 


Entered  according-  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

Q.  P.  PUTNAM  AND  SON, 
m  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


DEDICATED 

TO   MY   FRIEND   OF  MANY   YEARS, 
HORACE   GREELEY. 


M708774 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

A  FAMILIAR  LETTER  TO  THE  READER 7 

A  CRUISE  ON  LAKE  LADOGA 21 

BETWEEN  EUROPE  AND  ASIA 59 

WlNTER-LlFE   IN   ST.   PETERSBURG 85 

THE  LITTLE  LAND  OF  APPENZELL 113 

FROM  PERPIGNAN  TO  MONTSERRAT 145 

BALEARIC  DAYS,  1 171 

BALEARIC  DAYS,  II 197 

CATALONIAN  BRIDLE-ROADS 227 

THE  REPUBLIC  OF  THE  PYRENEES 259 

THE  GRANDE  CHARTREUSE 293 

THE  KYFFHAUSER  AND  ITS  LEGENDS 307 

A  WEEK  ON  CAPRI 335 

A  TRIP  TO  ISCHIA           365 

THE  LAND  OF  PAOLI 391 

THE  ISLAND  OF  MADDALENA  ;  WITH  A  DISTANT  VIEW  OF   CA- 

PRERA 419 

IN  THE  TEUTOBURGER  FOREST  .                       ....  449 


8  A    FAMILIAR   LETTER   TO   THE   READER. 

how  or  why  it  was  written  is  my  own  secret ; "  or,  to  take 
the  reader  frankly  into  his  confidence,  and  brave  the  ready 
charge  of  vanity  or  over-estimation  of  self,  by  the  free 
communication  of  his  message.  Generally,  the  latter  course 
is  only  to  anticipate  the  approval  which  is  sure  to  come  in 
the  end,  if  there  is  any  vitality  in  an  author's  work.  To 
most  critics  the  personal  gossip  of  an  acknowledged  name  is 
delightful :  posthumous  confidences  also  somehow  lose  the 
air  of  assertion  which  one  finds  in  the  living  man.  Death, 
or  that  fixed  renown  which  rarely  comes  during  life,  sets 
aside  the  conventionalities  of  literature ;  and  the  very  mod 
esty  and  reticence  which  are  supposed  to  be  a  part  of 
them  then  become  matters  of  regret.  So  there  are  tran 
sitions  in  life  which  seem  posthumous  to  its  preceding  phases, 
and  the  present  self  looks  upon  the  past  as  akin,  indeed, 
but  not  identical. 

During  the  past  twenty-two  years  I  have  written  and 
published  ten  volumes  of  travel,  which  have  been  exten 
sively  read,  and  are  still  read  by  newer  classes  of  readers. 
Whatever  may  be  the  quality  or  value  of  those  works,  I 
may  certainly  assume  that  they  possess  an  interest  of  some 
kind,  and  that  the  reader  whom  I  so  often  meet,  who  has 
followed  me  from  first  to  last  (a  fidelity  which,  I  must  con 
fess,  is  always  grateful  and  always  surprising),  will  not  ob 
ject  if,  now,  in  offering  him  this  eleventh  and  final  volume, 
I  suspend  my  role  of  observer  long  enough  to  relate  how 
the  series  came  to  be  written. 

The  cause  of  my  having  travelled  so  extensively  has 
been  due  to  a  succession  of  circumstances,  of  a  character 
more  or  less  accidental.  My  prolonged  wanderings  formed 
no  part  of  my  youthful  programme  of  life.  I  cannot  dis 
connect  my  early  longings  for  a  knowledge  of  the  Old 
World  from  a  still  earlier  passion  for  Art  and  Literature. 
To  the  latter  was  added  a  propensity,  which  I  have  never 
unlearned,  of  acquiring  as  much  knowledge  as  possible 
through  the  medium  of  my  own  experience  rather  than  to 


A   FAMILIAR   LETTER   TO   THE   READER.  9 

accept  it,  unquestioned,  from  anybody  else.  When  I  first 
set  out  for  Europe  I  was  still  a  boy,  and  less  acquainted 
with  life  than  most  boys  of  my  age.  I  was  driven  to  the 
venture  by  the  strong  necessity  of  providing  for  myself 
sources  of  education  which,  situated  as  I  was,  could  not  be 
reached  at  home.  In  other  words,  the  journey  offered  me 
a  chance  of  working  my  way. 

At  that  time,  Europe  was  not  the  familiar  neighbor-con 
tinent  which  it  has  since  become.  The  merest  superficial 
letters,  describing  cities,  scenery,  and  the  details  of  travel, 
were  welcome  to  a  very  large  class  of  readers,  and  the  nar 
rative  of  a  youth  of  nineteen,  plodding  a-foot  over  the  Old 
World,  met  with  an  acceptance  which  would  have  been 
impossible  ten  years  later.  I  am  fully  aware  how  little 
literary  merit  that  narrative  possesses.  It  is  the  work  of  a 
boy  who  was  trying  to  learn  something,  but  with  a  very  faint 
idea  of  the  proper  method  or  discipline ;  who  had  an  im 
mense  capacity  for  wonder  and  enjoyment,  but  not  much 
power,  as  yet,  to  discriminate  between  the  important  and 
the  trivial,  the  true  and  the  false.  Perhaps  the  want  of 
development  which  the  book  betrays  makes  it  attractive 
to  those  passing  through  the  same  phase  of  mental  growth. 
I  cannot  otherwise  account  for  its  continued  vitality. 

Having  been  led,  after  returning  home,  into  the  profes 
sion  of  journalism,  the  prospect  of  further  travel  seemed 
very  remote.  I  felt,  it  is  true,  that  a  visit  to  Greece,  Egypt, 
and  Syria  was  desirable  in  order  to  complete  my  acquain 
tance  with  the  lands  richest  in  the  history  of  civilization  ; 
and  I  would  have  been  quite  willing  to  relinquish  all  chance 
of  seeing  more  of  the  world,  had  that  much  been  assured 

o 

to  me.  I  looked  forward  to  years  of  steady  labor  as  a 
servant  of  the  Press ;  but,  being  a  servant,  and  by  neces 
sity  an  obedient  one,  I  was  presently  sent  forth,  in  the  line 
of  my  duty,  to  fresh  wanderings.  The  "  New  York  Tribune  " 
required  a  special  correspondent  in  California,  in  1849, 
and  the  choice  of  its  editor  fell  upon  me.  After  performing 


10  A  FAMILIAR  LETTER   TO   THE   READER. 

the  stipulated  service,  I  returned  by  way  of  Mexico,  in 
order  to  make  the  best  practicable  use  of  my  time.  Thus, 
and  not  from  any  roving  propensity,  originated  my  second 
journey. 

When,  two  years  later,  a  change  of  scene  and  of  occu 
pation  became  imperative,  from  the  action  of  causes  quite 
external  to  my  own  plans  and  hopes,  my  first  thought 
naturally,  was  to  complete  my  imperfect  scheme  of  travel 
by  a  journey  to  Egypt  and  the  Orient.  I  was,  moreover, 
threatened  with  an  affection  of  the  throat,  for  which  the 
climate  of  Africa  offered  a  sure  remedy.  The  journey  was 
simply  a  change  of  position,  from  assistant-editor  to  corres 
pondent,  enabling  me  to  obtain  the  strength  which  I  sought, 
without  giving  up  the  service  on  which  I  relied  for  support. 
How  it  came  to  be  extended  to  Central  Africa  is  partly 
explained  by  the  obvious  advantage  of  writing  from  a  new 
and  but  partially  explored  field ;  but  there  were  other  influ 
ences  acting  upon  me  which  I  did  not  fully  comprehend 
at  the  time,  and  cannot  now  describe  without  going  too 
deeply  into  matters  of  private  history.  I  obeyed  an  in 
stinct,  rather  than  followed  a  conscious  plan. 

After  having  completed  my  African  journeys,  I  traversed 
Palestine,  Syria,  and  Asia  Minor,  and  finally  reached  Con 
stantinople,  intending  to  return  homewards  through  Europe. 
There,  however,  I  found  letters  from  my  associates  of  "  The 
Tribune,"  insisting  that  I  should  proceed  speedily  to  China, 
for  the  purpose  of  attaching  myself  to  the  American  Ex 
pedition  to  Japan,  under  Commodore  Perry.  I  cannot  say 
that  the  offer  was  welcome,  yet  its  conditions  were  such 
that  I  could  not  well  refuse,  and,  besides,  I  had  then  no 
plan  of  my  own  of  sufficient  importance  to  oppose  to  it. 
The  circumstances  of  my  life  made  me  indifferent,  so  long 
as  the  service  required  was  not  exactly  distasteful,  and  in 
this  mood  I  accepted  the  proposition.  Eight  months  stili 
intervened  before  the  squadron  could  reach  China,  and  I 
determined  to  turn  the  time  to  good  advantage,  by  includ- 


A  FAMILIAR  LETTER  TO  THE  READER.  11 

ing  Spain  and  India  in  the  outward  journey.  Thus  the 
travel  of  one  year  was  extended  to  two  and  a  half,  and 
instead  of  the  one  volume  which  I  had  premeditated,  I 
brought  home  the  material  for  three. 

It  would  be  strange  if  an  experience  so  prolonged  should 
not  sensibly  change  the  bent  of  an  author's  mind.  It  was 
not  the  sphere  of  activity  which  I  should  have  chosen,  had 
I  been  free  to  choose,  but  it  was  a  grateful  release  from 
the  drudgery  of  the  editorial  room.  After  three  years  of 
clipping  and  pasting,  and  the  daily  arrangement  of  a  chaos 
of  ephemeral  shreds,  in  an  atmosphere  which  soon  exhausts 
the  vigor  of  the  blood,  the  change  to  the  freedom  of  Orien 
tal  life,  to  the  wonders  of  the  oldest  art  and  to  the  easy 
record  of  impressions  so  bright  and  keen  that  they  put 
themselves  into  words,  was  like  that  from  night  to  day. 
With  restored  health,  the  life  of  the  body  became  a  delight 
in  itself;  a  kindly  fortune  seemed  to  attend  my  steps;  I 
learned  something  of  the  patience  and  fatalistic  content  of 
the  races  among  whom  I  was  thrown,  and  troubled  myself 
no  longer  with  an  anxious  concern  for  the  future. 

I  confess,  too,  that  while  floating  upon  the  waters  of  the 
White  Kile,  while  roaming  through  the  pine  forests  of 
Phrygia  or  over  the  hills  of  Loo-Choo,  I  learned  to  feel 
the  passion  of  the  Explorer.  Almost  had  I  eaten  of  that 
fruit  which  gives  its  restless  poison  to  the  blood.  It  is 
very  likely  that,  had  I  then  been  able  to  have  marked  out 
my  future  path,  I  might  have  given  it  the  character  which 
was  afterwards  ascribed  to  me. 

I  will  further  confess  that  the  unusual  favor  with  which 
those  three  volumes  of  travel  were  received,  —  perhaps, 
also,  the  ever-repeated  attachment  of  "traveller"  to  my 
name,  and  that  demand  for  oral  report  of  what  I  had  seen 
and  learned,  which  threw  me  suddenly  into  the  profession 
of  lecturing,  with  much  the  sensation  of  the  priest  whom 
Henri  Quatre  made  general  by  mistake,  —  I  will  confess,  I 
say,  that  these  things  did  for  a  time  mislead  me  as  to  the 


12  A  FAMILIAR  LETTER  TO   THE  READER. 

kind  of  work  which  I  was  best  fitted  to  do.  I  did  not  see, 
then,  that  my  books  were  still  a  continuation  of  the  process 
of  development,  and  that,  tried  by  a  higher  literary  stand 
ard,  they  stopped  short  of  real  achievement.  My  plan,  in 
writing  them,  had  been  very  simple.  Within  the  limits 
which  I  shall  presently  indicate,  my  faculty  of  observation 
had  been  matured  by  exercise ;  my  capacity  to  receive 
impressions  was  quick  and  sensitive,  and  the  satisfaction  I 
took  in  descriptive  writing  was  much  the  same  as  that 
of  an  artist  who  should  paint  the  same  scenes.  I  endeav 
ored,  in  fact,  to  make  words  a  substitute  for  pencil  and 
palette.  Having  learned,  at  last,  to  analyze  and  compare, 
and  finding  that  the  impression  produced  upon  my  readers 
was  proportionate  to  its  degree  of  strength  upon  my  own 
mind,  I  fancied  that  I  might  acquire  the  power  of  bringing 
home  to  thousands  of  firesides  clear  pictures  of  the  remotest 
regions  of  the  earth,  and  that  this  would  be  a  service  worth 
undertaking. 

With  a  view  of  properly  qualifying  myself  for  the  work, 
I  made  a  collection  of  the  narratives  of  the  noted  travel 
lers  of  all  ages,  from  Herodotus  to  Humboldt.  It  was  a 
rich  and  most  instructive  field  of  study ;  but  the  first  re 
sult  was  to  open  my  eyes  to  the  many  requirements  of  a 
successful  traveller  —  a  list  which  increases  with  each  gene 
ration.  I  was  forced  to  compare  myself  with  those  wan 
derers  of  the  Middle  Ages,  whose  chief  characteristic  was  a 
boundless  capacity  for  wonder  and  delight,  but,  alas !  this 
age  would  not  allow  me  their  naive  frankness  of  speech. 
Moreover,  I  had  now  discovered  that  Man  is  vastly  more 
important  than  Nature,  and  the  more  I  dipped  into  anthro 
pological  and  ethnological  works,  the  more  I  became  con 
vinced  that  I  could  not  hope  to  be  of  service  unless  I 
should  drop  all  other  purposes  and  plans,  and  give  my  life 
wholly  to  the  studies  upon  which  those  sciences  are  based. 
But  the  latter  lay  so  far  away  from  my  intentions  —  so  far 
from  that  intellectual  activity  which  is  joyous  because  it  is 


A  FAMILIAR  LETTER   TO   THE  READER.  13 

spontaneous  —  that  I  was  forced  to  pause  and  consider  the 
matter  seriously. 

A  writer  whose  mind  has  been  systematically  trained 
from  the  start  will  hardly  comprehend  by  what  gradual 
processes  I  attained  unto  a  little  self-knowledge.  The 
faculties  called  into  exercise  by  travel  so  repeated  and 
prolonged,  continued  to  act  from  the  habit  of  action,  and 
subsided  very  slowly  into  their  normal  relation  to  other 
qualities  of  the  mind.  They  still  continued  to  affect  my 
plans,  when  I  left  home,  in  1856,  for  another  visit  to  Europe. 
It  will,  therefore,  be  easily  understood  how  I  came  to  com 
bine  a  winter  and  summer  trip  to  the  Arctic  Zone  with  my 
design  of  studying  the  Scandinavian  races  and  languages : 
the  former  was  meant  as  a  counterpart  to  my  previous  ex 
periences  in  tropical  lands.  This  journey,  and  that  to 
Greece  and  Russia,  which  immediately  followed,  were  the 
receding  waves  of  the  tide.  While  I  was  engaged  with 
them  I  found  that  my  former  enjoyment  of  new  scenes, 
and  the  zest  of  getting  knowledge  at  first-hand,  were  sen 
sibly  diminished  by  regret  for  the  lack  of  those  severe  pre 
paratory  studies  which  would  have  enabled  me  to  see  and 
learn  so  much  more. 

I  never  thought  it  worth  while  to  contradict  a  story 
which,  for  eight  or  nine  years  past  has  appeared  from  time 
to  time  in  the  newspapers  —  that  Humboldt  had  said  of  me  : 
"  He  has  travelled  more  and  seen  less  than  any  man  living." 
The  simple  publication  of  a  letter  from  Humboldt  to  my 
self  would  have  silenced  this  invention ;  but  I  desisted, 
because  I  knew  its  originator,  and  did  not  care  to  take 
that  much  notice  of  him.  The  same  newspapers  after 
wards  informed  me  that  he  had  confessed  the  slander, 
shortly  before  his  death.  I  mention  the  circumstance  now, 
in  order  to  say  that  the  sentence  attributed  to  Humboldt 
was  no  doubt  kept  alive  by  the  grain  of  truth  at  the  bottom 
of  it.  Had  Ilumboldt  actually  said:  "No  man  who  has 
published  so  many  volumes  of  travel  has  contributed  so 


14  A   FAMILIAR   LETTER  TO   THE   READER. 

little  to  positive  science"  —  he  would  have  spoken  the 
truth,  and  I  should  have  agreed  with  him.  But  when, 
during  my  last  interview  with  that  great  student  of  Nature, 
I  remarked  that  he  would  find  in  my  volumes  nothing  of 
the  special  knowledge  which  he  needed,  it  was  very  grate 
ful  to  me  when  he  replied :  "  But  you  paint  the  world  as  we, 
explorers  of  science,  cannot.  Do  not  undervalue  what  you 
have  done.  It  is  a  real  service  ;  and  the  unscientific  travel 
ler,  who  knows  the  use  of  his  eyes,  observes  for  us  always, 
without  being  aware  of  it."  Dr.  Petermann,  the  distin 
guished  geographer,  made  almost  the  same  remark  to  me, 
four  or  five  years  afterwards. 

I  should  have  been  satisfied  with  such  approval  and  with 
certain  kindly  messages  which  I  received  from  Dr.  Barth 
and  other  explorers,  and  have  gone  forward  in  the  path 
into  which  I  was  accidentally  led,  had  I  not  felt  that  it  was 
diverging  more  and  more  from  the  work  wherein  I  should 
find  my  true  content.  I  may  here  be  met  by  the  thread 
bare  platitude  that  an  author  is  no  judge  of  his  own  per 
formance.  Very  well :  let  me,  then,  be  the  judge  of  my 
own  tastes !  On  the  one  hand  there  was  still  the  tempta 
tion  of  completing  an  unfulfilled  scheme.  Two  additional 
journeys  —  one  to  the  Caucasus,  Persia,  and  the  more  ac 
cessible  portions  of  Central  Asia,  and  the  other  to  South 
America  —  would  have  rounded  into  tolerable  completeness 
my  personal  knowledge  of  Man  and  Nature.  Were  these 
once  accomplished,  I  might  attempt  the  construction  of  a 
work,  the  idea  of  which  hovered  before  my  mind  for  a  long 
time  —  a  human  cosmos,  which  should  represent  the  race 
in  its  grand  divisions,  its  relation  to  soil  and  climate,  its 
varieties  of  mental  and  moral  development,  and  its  social, 
political,  and  spiritual  phenomena,  with  the  complex  causes 
from  which  they  spring.  The  field  thus  opened  was  grander 
than  that  which  a  mere  "  tourist "  could  claim :  it  had  a 
genuine  charm  for  the  imagination,  and  even  failure  therein 
was  more  attractive  than  success  in  a  superficial  branch  of 
literature. 


A    FAMILIAR   LETTER   TO    THE   READER.  15 

On  the  other  hand,  I  began  to  feel  very  keenly  the  de 
moralizing  influence  (if  one  may  apply  such  a  term  to  intel 
lectual  effort)  of  travel.  The  mind  flags  under  the  strain 
of  a  constant  receptivity :  it  must  have  time  to  assimilate 
and  arrange  its  stores  of  new  impressions.  Moreover, 
without  that  ripe  knowledge  which  belongs  to  the  later 
rather  than  the  earlier  life  of  a  man,  the  traveller  misses 
the  full  value  of  his  opportunities.  His  observations,  in 
many  respects,  must  be  incomplete,  and  tantalize  rather 
than  satisfy.  While  he  grows  weary  of  describing  the  ex 
ternal  forms  of  Nature  and  the  more  obvious  peculiarities 
of  races,  he  has  little  chance  of  following  the  clews  to 
deeper  and  graver  knowledge  which  are  continually  offered 
to  his  hands.  Where,  as  in  my  case,  other  visions,  of  very 
different  features,  obscured  for  a  time  but  never  suppressed, 
beckon  him  onward,  he  must  needs  pause  before  the  desul 
tory  habit  of  mind,  engendered  by  travel,  becomes  con 
firmed. 

It  was  easy  for  me,  at  this  "  parting  of  the  ways,"  to  de 
cide  which  was  my  better  road.  While  I  was  grateful  for 
the  fortune  which  had  led  me  so  far,  and  through  such 
manifold  experience,  I  saw  that  I  should  only  reach  the 
best  results  of  what  I  had  already  gained,  by  giving  up  all 
further  plans  of  travel.  The  favor  with  which  my  narra 
tives  had  been  received  was,  in  great  measure,  due  to  a  re 
flection  in  them  of  the  lively  interest  which  I  had  taken  in 
my  own  wanderings,  —  to  an  appetite  for  external  impres 
sions  which  was  now  somewhat  cloyed,  and  a  delight  in 
mere  description  which  I  could  no  longer  feel.  My  activ 
ity  in  this  direction  appeared  to  me  as  a  field  which  had 
been  traversed  in  order  to  reach  my  proper  pastures.  It 
had  been  kcoad  and  pleasant  to  the  feet,  and  many  good 
friends  cried  to  me  :  "  Stay  where  you  are  —  it  is  the  path 
which  you  should  tread  !  "  yet  1  preferred  to  press  onward 
towards  the  rugged  steeps  beyond.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
the  pleasure  of  reading  a  book  must  be  commensurate  with 


16  A   FAMILIAR  LETTERvTO   THE  READER. 

the  author's  pleasure  in  writing  it,  and  that  those  books 
which  do  not  grow  from  the  natural  productive  force  of  the 
mind  will  never  possess  any  real  vitality. 

The  poet  Tennyson  once  said  to  me :  "  A  book  of  travels 
may  be  so  written  that  it  shall  be  as  immortal  as  a  great 
poem."  Perhaps  so:  but  in  that  case  its  immortality  will 
be  dependent  upon  intellectual  qualities  which  the  travel 
ler,  as  a  traveller,  does  not  absolutely  require.  The  most 
interesting  narrative  of  exploration  is  that  which  is  most 
simply  told.  A  poetic  apprehension  of  Nature,  a  spark 
ling  humor,  graces  of  style  —  all  these  are  doubtful  merits. 
\Ve  want  the  naked  truth,  without  even  a  fig-leaf  of  fancy. 
We  may  not  appreciate  all  the  facts  of  science  which  the 
explorer  has  collected,  but  to  omit  them  would  be  to  weaken 
his  authority.  Narratives  of  travel  serve  either  to  measure 
our  knowledge  of  other  lands,  in  which  case  they  stand 
only  until  superseded  by  more  thorough  research,  or  to  ex 
hibit  the  coloring  which  those  lands  take  when  painted  for 
us  by  individual  minds,  in  which  case  their  value  must  be 
fixed  by  the  common  standards  of  literature.  For  the 
former  class,  the  widest  scientific  culture  is  demanded :  for 
the  latter,  something  of  the  grace  and  freedom  and  keen 
mental  insight  which  we  require  in  a  work  of  fiction.  The 
only  traveller  in  whom  the  two  characters  were  thoroughly 
combined,  was  Goethe. 

Should  I  hesitate  to  confess  that  to  be  styled  "  a  great 
American  traveller,"  has  always  touched  me  with  a  sense 
of  humiliation  ?  It  is  as  if  one  should  say  "  a  great  Amer 
ican  pupil ; "  for  the  books  of  travel  which  I  have  pub 
lished  appear  to  me  as  so  many  studies,  so  many  processes 
of  education,  with  the  one  advantage  that,  however  imma 
ture  they  may  be,  nothing  in  them  is  forced  or  affected. 
The  journeys  they  describe  came,  as  I  have  shown,  through 
a  natural  series  of  circumstances,  one  leading  on  the  other: 
no  particular  daring  or  energy,  and  no  privation  from 
which  a  healthy  man  need  shrink,  was  necessary.  Danger 


A    FAMILIAR   LETTER    TO    THE   READER.  17 

is  oftener  a  creation  of  one's  own  mind  than  an  absolute 
fact,  and  I  presume  that  my  share  of  personal  adventure 
was  no  more  than  would  fall  to  the  lot  of  any  man,  in  the 
same  period  of  travel.  To  be  praised  for  virtues  which 
one  does  not  feel  to  be  such,  is  quite  as  unwelcome  as  to 
be  censured  for  faults  which  are  not  made  evident  to  one's 
self. 

If  I  wish  that  these  volumes  of  mine  were  worthier  of 
the  opportunities  granted  to  me,  at  least  I  do  not  regret 
that  they  were  written.  Hardly  a  week  passes,  but  T  re 
ceive  letters  from  young  men,  who  have  been  stimulated 
by  them  to  achieve  the  education  of  travel ;  and,  believing 
as  I  do  that  the  more  broad  and  cosmopolitan  in  his  views 
a  man  becomes  through  his  knowledge  of  other  lands,  the 
purer  and  more  intelligent  shall  be  his  patriotic  sentiment 
—  the  more  easily  he  shall  lift  himself  out  of  the  narrow 
sphere  of  local  interests  and  prejudices  —  I  rejoice  that  I 
have  been  able  to  assist  in  giving  this  direction  to  the 
minds  of  the  American  youth.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
say  that  I  had  no  such  special  intention  in  the  beginning, 
for  I  never  counted  beforehand  on  the  favor  of  the  public : 
but  the  fact,  as  it  has  been  made  manifest  to  me,  is  some 
thing  for  which  I  am  exceedingly  grateful. 

In  this  volume  I  have  purposely  dropped  the  form  of 
continuous  narrative,  which,  indeed,  was  precluded  by  the 
nature  of  my  material.  The  papers  it  contains,  each  de 
voted  to  a  separate  By-way  of  Europe,  were  written  at 
various  times,  during  two  journeys  abroad,  within  the  past 
five  or  six  years.  I  employed  the  intervals  of  other  occu 
pation,  from  time  to  time,  in  making  excursions  to  outlying 
corners  of  the  Old  World,  few  of  which  are  touched  by  the 
ordinary  round  of  travel.  Nearly  all  of  them,  nevertheless, 
attracted  me  by  some  picturesque  interest,  either  of  history, 
or  scenery,  or  popular  institutions  and  customs.  Such 
points,  for  instance,  as  Lake  Ladoga,  Appenzell,  Andorra, 
and  the  Teutoburger  Forest,  although  lying  near  the  fre- 


18  A  FAMILIAR  LETTER   TO   THE   READER. 

quented  highways  and  not  difficult  of  access,  are  very 
rarely  visited,  and  an  account  of  them  is  not  an  unneces 
sary  contribution  to  the  literature  of  travel.  A  few  of  the 
places  I  have  included  —  St.  Petersburg  in  winter,  Capri 
and  Ischia  —  cannot  properly  be  classed  as  "  By-ways," 
yet  they  form  so  small  a  proportion  of  the  contents  of  the 
volume  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  retain  its  title.  Being 
the  result  of  brief  intervals  of  leisure,  and  the  desire  to 
turn  my  season  of  recreation  to  some  good  account,  the 
various  papers  were  produced  without  regard  to  any  plan, 
and  each  is  meant  to  be  independent  of  the  others.  If  I 
had  designed  to  present  a  tolerably  complete  description 
of  all  the  interesting  By-ways  of  Europe,  I  must  have  in 
cluded  Auvergne,  Brittany,  the  Basque  provinces  of  Spain, 
Friesland,  the  Carpathians,  Apulia,  Croatia,  and  Transyl 
vania. 

In  laying  down  the  mantle  of  a  traveller,  which  has  been 
thrown  upon  my  shoulders  rather  than  voluntarily  assumed, 
I  do  not  wish  to  be  understood  as  renouncing  all  the  chances 
of  the  future.  I  cannot  foresee  what  compulsory  influences, 
what  inevitable  events,  may  come  to  shape  the  course  of 
my  life :  the  work  of  the  day  is  all  with  which  a  man  need 
concern  himself.  One  thing,  only,  is  certain ;  I  shall 
never,  from  the  mere  desire  of  travel,  go  forth  to  the  dis 
tant  parts  of  the  earth.  Some  minds  are  so  constituted 
that  their  freest  and  cheerfulest  activity  will  not  accom 
pany  the  body  from  place  to  place,  but  is  dependent  on 
the  air  of  home,  on  certain  familiar  surroundings,  and  an 
equable  habit  of  life.  Each  writer  has  his  own  peculiar 
laws  of  production,  which  the  reader  cannot  always  deduce 
from  his  works.  It  amuses  me,  who  have  set  my  house 
hold  gods  upon  the  soil  which  my  ancestors  have  tilled  for 
near  two  hundred  years,  to  hear  my  love  of  home  ques 
tioned  by  men  who  have  changed  theirs  a  dozen  times. 

I  therefore  entreat  of  you,  my  kindly  reader,  that  you 
will  not  ascribe  my  many  wanderings  to  an  inborn  propen- 


A   FAMILIAR    LETTER   TO   THE   READER.  19 

sity  to  wander,  —  that  you  will  believe  me  when  I  say  that 
culture,  in  its  most  comprehensive  sense,  is  more  to  me 
than  the  chance  of  seeing  the  world,  —  and,  finally,  that 
you  will  consider  whether  I  have  any  legitimate  right  to  as 
sume  the  calling  of  an  author,  unless  I  choose  the  work 
that  seems  fittest,  without  regard  to  that  acceptance  of  it 
which  is  termed  popularity.  If  you  have  found  enough  in 
my  former  volumes  of  travel  to  persuade  you  to  accompany 
me  into  other  walks  of  literature,  I  shall  do  my  best  to 
convince  you  that  I  am  right  in  the  conclusions  at  which 
I  have  arrived.  If,  believing  me  mistaken,  you  decide  to 
turn  away,  let  us  at  least  shake  hands,  and,  while  I  thank 
you  for  your  company  thus  far  on  my  way,  still  part  as 

friends ! 

BAYARD  TAYLOR. 
CEDARCROFT,  September.  1868. 


A   CRUISE   ON  LAKE  LADOGA. 


"Dear  T.,  —  The  steamboat  Valamo  is  advertised  to  leave  on 
Tuesday,  the  26th  (July  8th,  New  Style),  for  Serdopol,  at  the 
very  head  of  Lake  Ladoga,  stopping  on  the  way  at  Schliisselburg, 
Konewitz  Island,  Kexholm,  and  the  island  and  monastery  of  Va- 
laam.  The  anniversary  of  Saints  Sergius  and  Herrmann,  mir 
acle-workers,  will  be  celebrated  at  the  last  named  place  on  Thurs 
day,  and  the  festival  of  the  Apostles  Peter  and  Paul  on  Friday. 
If  the  weather  is  fine,  the  boat  will  take  passengers  to  the  Holy 
Island.  The  fare  is  nine  rubles  for  the  trip.  You  can  be  back 
again  in  St.  Petersburg  by  six  o'clock  on  Saturday  evening.  Pro 
visions  can  be  had  on  board,  but  (probably)  not  beds  ;  so,  if  you 
are  luxurious  in  this  particular,  take  along  your  own  sheets,  pil 
low-cases,  and  blankets.  I  intend  going,  and  depend  upon  your 
company.  Make  up  your  mind  by  ten  o'clock,  when  I  will  call 
for  your  decision.  Yours, 

"  P." 

I  laid  down  the  note,  looked  at  my  watch,  and  found  that 
I  had  an  hour  for  deliberation  before  P.'s  arrival.  "  Lake 
Ladoga?"  said  I  to  myself;  "  it  is  the  largest  lake  in  Eu 
rope —  I  learned  that  at  school.  It  is  full  of  fish;  it  is 
stormy ;  and  the  Neva  is  its  outlet.  What  else  ?  "  I  took 
down  a  geographical  dictionary,  and  obtained  the  following 
additional  particulars  :  The  name  Ladoga  (not  Lado'ga,  as 
it  is  pronounced  in  America)  is  Finnish,  and  means  "  new." 
The  lake  lies  between  60°  and  61°  45'  north  latitude,  is 
175  versts  —  about  117  miles  —  in  length,  from  north  to 
south,  and  100  versts  in  breadth  ;  receives  the  great  river 
Volkhoff  on  the  south,  the  Svir,  which  pours  into  it  the 
waters  of  Lake  Onega,  on  the  east,  and  the  overflow  of 


26  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

speed  to  her  and  her  passengers.  The  latter,  in  spite  of 
the  rain,  thronged  the  deck,  and  continually  repeated  their 
devotions  to  the  shrines  on  either  bank.  On  the  right,  the 
starry  domes  of  the  Smolnoi,  rising  from  the  lap  of  a  linden- 
grove,  flashed  upon  us ;  then,  beyond  the  long  front  of  the 
college  of  demoiselles  nobles  and  the  military  store-houses, 
we  hailed  the  silver  hemispheres  which  canopy  the  tomb 
and  shrine  of  St.  Alexander  of  the  Neva.  On  the  left, 
huge  brick  factories  pushed  back  the  gleaming  groves  of 
birch,  which  flowed  around  and  between  them,  to  dip  their 
hanging  boughs  in  the  river;  but  here  and  there  peeped 
out  the  bright  green  cupolas  of  some  little  church,  none  of 
which,  I  was  glad  to  see,  slipped  out  of  the  panorama  with 
out  its  share  of  reverence. 

For  some  miles  we  sailed  between  a  double  row  of  con 
tiguous  villages  —  a  long  suburb  of  the  capital,  which 
stretched  on  and  on,  until  the  slight  undulations  of  the 
shore  showed  that  we  had  left  behind  us  the  dead  level  of 
the  Ingrian  marshes.  It  is  surprising  what  an  interest  one 
takes  in  the  slightest  mole-hill,  after  living  for  a  short  time 
on  a  plain.  You  are  charmed  with  an  elevation  which  en 
ables  you  to  look  over  your  neighbor's  hedge.  I  once  heard 
a  clergyman,  in  his  sermon,  assert  that  "  the  world  was  per 
fectly  smooth  before  the  fall  of  Adam,  and  the  present  in 
equalities  in  its  surface  were  the  evidences  of  human  sin." 
I  was  a  boy  at  the  time,  and  I  thought  to  myself,  "  How 
fortunate  it  is  that  we  are  sinners !  "  Peter  the  Great,  how 
ever,  had  no  choice  left  him.  The  piles  he  drove  in  these 
marshes  were  the  surest  foundation  of  his  empire. 

The  Neva,  in  its  sudden  and  continual  windings,  in  its 
clear,  cold,  sweet  water,  and  its  fringing  groves  of  birch, 
maple,  and  alder,  compensates,  in  a  great  measure,  for  the 
flatness  of  its  shores.  It  has  not  the  slow  magnificence  of 
the  Hudson  or  the  rush  of  the  Rhine,  but  carries  with  it  a 
sense  of  power,  of  steady,  straightforward  force,  like  that 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  27 

of  the  ancient  warriors  who  disdained  all  clothing  except 
their  swords.  Its  river-god  is  not  even  crowned  with  reeds^ 
but  the  full  flow  of  his  urn  rolls  forth  undiminished  by 
summer  and  unchecked  beneath  its  wintry  lid.  Outlets  of 
large  lakes  frequently  exhibit  this  characteristic,  and  the 
impression  they  make  upon  the  mind  does  not  depend  on 
the  scenery  through  which  they  flow.  Nevertheless,  we  dis 
covered  many  points,  the  beauty  of  which  was  not  blotted 
out  by  rain  and  cloud,  and  would  have  shone  freshly  and 
winningly  under  the  touch  of  the  sun.  On  the  north  bank 
there  is  a  palace  of  Potemkin  (or  P6tchomkin,  as  his 
name  is  pronounced  in  Russian),  charmingly  placed  at  a 
bend,  whence  it  looks  both  up  and  down  the  river.  The 
gay  color  of  the  building,  as  of  most  of  the  datchas,  or 
country-villas,  in  Russia,  makes  a  curious  impression  upon 
the  stranger.  Until  he  has  learned  to  accept  it  as  a  portion 
of  the  landscape,  the  effect  is  that  of  a  scenic  design  on  the 
part  of  the  builder.  These  dwellings,  these  villages  and 
churches,  he  thinks,  are  scarcely  intended  to  be  permanent : 
they  were  erected  as  part  of  some  great  dramatic  spectacle, 
which  has  been,  or  is  to  be,  enacted  under  the  open  sky. 
Contrasted  with  the  sober,  matter-of-fact  aspect  of  dwell 
ings  in  other  countries,  they  have  the  effect  of  temporary 
decorations.  But  when  one  has  entered  within  those  walls 
of  green  and  blue  and  red  arabesques,  inspected  their 
thickness,  viewed  the  ponderous  porcelain  stoves,  tasted, 
perhaps,  the  bountiful  cheer  of  the  owner,  he  realizes  their 
palpable  comforts,  and  begins  to  suspect  that  all  the  exter 
nal  adornment  is  merely  an  attempt  to  restore  to  Nature 
that  coloring  of  which  she  is  stripped  by  the  cold  sky  of 
the  North. 

A  little  further  on,  there  is  a  summer  villa  of  the  Empress 
Catharine  —  a  small,  modest  building,  crowning  a  slope  of 
green  turf.  Beyond  this,  the  banks  are  draped  with  foliage, 
and  the  thinly  clad  birches,  with  their  silver  stems,  shiver 
above  the  rush  of  the  waters.  We,  also,  began  to  shiver 


28  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

under  the  steadily  falling  rain,  and  retreated  to  the  cabin 
on  the  steward's  first  hint  of  dinner.  A  table  cChote  of  four 
courses  was  promised  us,  including  the  preliminary  zakouski 
and  the  supplementary  coffee  —  all  for  sixty  copeks,  which 
is  about  forty-five  cents.  The  zakouski  is  an  arrangement 
peculiar  to  Northern  countries,  and  readily  adopted  by  for 
eigners.  In  Sweden  it  is  called  the  smorgas,  or  "  butter- 
goose,"  but  the  American  term  (if  we  had  the  custom)  would 
be  "  the  whetter."  On  a  side-table  there  are  various  plates 
of  anchovies,  cheese,  chopped  onions,  raw  salt  herring,  and 
bread,  all  in  diminutive  slices,  while  glasses  of  corresponding 
size  surround  a  bottle  of  hummel,  or  cordial  of  caraway- 
seed.  This,  at  least,  was  the  zakouski  on  board  the  Yalamo, 
and  to  which  our  valiant  captain  addressed  himself,  after 
first  bowing  and  crossing  himself  towards  the  Byzantine 
Christ  and  Virgin  in  either  corner  of  the  cabin.  We,  of 
course,  followed  his  example,  finding  our  appetites,  if  not 
improved,  certainly  not  at  all  injured  thereby.  The  dinner 
which  followed  far  surpassed  our  expectations.  The  nation 
al  shchee,  or  cabbage-soup,  is  better  than  the  sound  of  its 
name ;  the  fish,  fresh  from  the  cold  Neva,  is  sure  to  be  well 
cooked  where  it  forms  an  important  article  of  diet ;  and  the 
partridges  were  accompanied  by  those  plump  little  Russian 
cucumbers,  which  are  so  tender  and  flavorous  that  they 
deserve  to  be  called  fruit  rather  than  vegetables. 

When  we  went  on  deck  to  light  our  Riga  cigars,  the 
boat  was  approaching  Schliisselburg,  at  the  outlet  of  the 
lake.  Here  the  Neva,  just  born,  sweeps  in  two  broad  arms 
around  the  island  which  bears  the  Key-fortress  —  the  key 
by  which  Peter  opened  this  river-door  to  the  Gulf  of  Fin 
land.  The  pretty  town  of  the  same  name  is  on  the  south 
bank,  and  in  the  centre  of  its  front  yawn  the  granite  gates 
of  the  canal  which,  for  a  hundred  versts.  skirts  the  southern 
shore  of  the  lake,  forming,  with  the  Yolkhoff  River  and 
another  canal  beyond,  a  summer  communication  with  the 
vast  regions  watered  by  the  Volga  and  its  affluents.  The 


A   CRUISE   OX   LAKE  LADOGA.  29 

Ladoga  Canal,  by  which  the  heavy  barges  laden  with  hemp 
from  Mid-Russia,  and  wool  from  the  Ural,  and  wood  from 
the  Valda!  Hills,  avoid  the  sudden  storms  of  the  lake,  was 
also  the  work  of  Peter  the  Great.  I  should  have  gone  on 
shore  to  inspect  the  locks,  but  for  the  discouraging  persist 
ence  of  the  rain.  Huddled  against  the  smoke-stack,  we 
could  do  nothing  but  look  on  the  draggled  soldiers  and 
mujiks  splashing  through  the  mud.  the  low  yellow  fortress, 
which  has  long  outlived  its  importance,  and  the  dark-gray 
waste  of  lake  which  loomed  in  front,  suggestive  of  rough 
water  and  kindred  abominations. 

There  it  was.  at  last,  —  Lake  Ladoga.  —  and  now  our 
prow  turns  to  unknown  regions.  We  steamed  past  the 
fort,  past  a  fleet  of  brigs,  schooners,  and  brigantines.  with 
huge,  rounded  stems  and  sterns,  laden  with  wood  from  the 
.  Wolkonskoi  forests,  and  boldly  entered  the  gray  void  of 
fo£  and  rain.  The  surface  of  the  lake  was  but  slicrhtlv 

O  * 

agitated,  as  the  wind  gradually  fell  and  a  thick  mist  settled 
on  the  water.  Hour  after  hour  passed  away,  as  we  rushed 
onward  through  the  blank,  and  we  naturally  turned  to  our 
fellow-passengers  in  search  of  some  interest  or  diversion 
to  beguile  the  time.  The  heavy-bearded  peasants  and  their 
weather-beaten  wives  were  scattered  around  the  deck  in 
various  attitudes,  some  of  the  former  asleep  on  their  backs, 
with  open  mouths,  beside  the  smoke-stack.  There  were 
many  picturesque  figures  among  them,  and.  if  I  possessed 
the  quick  pencil  of  Kaulbach.  I  might  have  filled  a  dozen 
leaves  of  my  sketch-book.  The  bourgeoisie  were  huddled 
on  the  quarter-deck  benches,  silent,  and  fearful  of  sea-sick 
ness.  But  a  very  bright,  intelligent  young  officer  turned 
up.  who  had  crossed  the  Ural,  and  was  able  to  entertain  us 
with  an  account  of  the  splendid  sword-blades  of  Zlataoust 
He  was  now  on  his  way  to  the  copper  mines  of  Pitkaranda. 
on  the  northeastern  shore  of  the  lake. 

About  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  although  still  before 
sunset,  the  fog  began  to  darken,  and  I  was  apprehensive 


30  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

that  we  should  have  some  difficulty  in  finding  the  island  of 
Konewitz,  which  was  to  be  our  stopping-place  for  the  night. 
The  captain  ordered  the  engine  to  be  slowed,  and  brought 
forward  a  brass  half-pounder,  about  a  foot  long,  which  was 
charged  and  fired.  In  less  than  a  minute  after  the  report, 
the  sound  of  a  deep,  solemn  bell  boomed  in  the  mist,  dead 
ahead.  Instantly  every  head  was  uncovered,  and  the  rustle 
of  whispered  prayers  fluttered  over  the  deck,  as  the  pil 
grims  bowed  and  crossed  themselves.  Nothing  was  to  be 
seen ;  but,  stroke  after  stroke,  the  hollow  sounds,  muffled 
and  blurred  in  the  opaque  atmosphere,  were  pealed  out  by 
the  guiding  bell.  Presently  a  chime  of  smaller  bells  joined 
in  a  rapid  accompaniment,  growing  louder  and  clearer  as 
we  advanced.  The  effect  was  startling.  After  voyaging 
for  hours  over  the  blank  water,  this  sudden  and  solemn 
welcome,  sounded  from  some  invisible  tower,  assumed  a 
mystic  and  marvelous  character.  Was  it  not  rather  the 
bells  of  a  city,  ages  ago  submerged,  and  now  sending  its 
ghostly  summons  up  to  the  pilgrims  passing  over  its  crystal 
grave  ? 

Finally  a  tall  mast,  its  height  immensely  magnified  by 
the  fog,  could  be  distinguished  ;  then  the  dark  hulk  of  a 
steamer,  a  white  gleam  of  sand  through  the  fog,  indistinct 
outlines  of  trees,  a  fisherman's  hut,  and  a  landing-place. 
The  bells  still  rang  out  from  some  high  station  near  at 
hand,  but  unseen.  We  landed  as  soon  as  the  steamer  had 
made  fast,  and  followed  the  direction  of  the  sound.  A  few 
paces  from  the  beach  stood  a  little  chapel,  open,  and  with 
a  lamp  burning  before  its  brown  Virgin  and  Child.  Here 
our  passengers  stopped,  and  made  a  brief  prayer  before 
going  on.  Two  or  three  beggars,  whose  tattered  dresses 
of  tow  suggested  the  idea  of  their  having  clothed  them 
selves  with  the  sails  of  shipwrecked  vessels,  bowed  before 
us  so  profoundly  and  reverently  that  we  at  first  feared  they 
had  mistaken  us  for  the  shrines.  Following  an  avenue  of 
trees,  up  a  gentle  eminence,  the  tall  white  towers  and  green 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  31 

domes  of  a  stately  church  gradually  detached  themselves 
from  the  mist,  and  we  found  ourselves  at  the  portal  of  the 
monastery.  A  group  of  monks,  in  the  usual  black  robes, 
and  high,  cylindrical  caps  of  crape,  the  covering  of  which 
overlapped  and  fell  upon  their  shoulders,  were  waiting,  ap 
parently  to  receive  visitors.  Recognizing  us  as  foreigners, 
they  greeted  us  with  great  cordiality,  and  invited  us  to  take 
up  our  quarters  for  the  night  in  the  house  appropriated  to 
guests.  We  desired,  however,  to  see  the  church  before  the 
combined  fog  and  twilight  should  make  it  too  dark ;  so  a 
benevolent  old  monk  led  the  way,  hand  in  hand  with  P., 
across  the  court-yard. 

The  churches  of  the  Greek  faith  present  a  general  re 
semblance  in  their  internal  decorations.  There  is  a  glitter 
of  gold,  silver,  and  flaring  colors  in  the  poorest.  Statues 
are  not  permitted,  but  the  pictures  of  dark  Saviours  and 
saints  are  generally  covered  with  a  drapery  of  silver,  with 
openings  for  the  head  and  hands.  Konewitz,  however, 
boasts  of  a  special  sanctity,  in  possessing  the  body  of  Saint 
Arsenius,  the  founder  of  the  monastery.  His  remains  are 
inclosed  in  a  large  coffin  of  silver,  elaborately  chased.  It 
was  surrounded,  as  we  entered,  by  a  crowd  of  kneeling 
pilgrims ;  the  tapers  burned  beside  it,  and  at  the  various 
altars  ;  the  air  was  thick  with  incense,  and  the  great  bell 
still  boomed  from  the  misty  tower.  Behind  us  came  a 
throng  of  our  own  deck-passengers,  who  seemed  to  recog 
nize  the  proper  shrines  by  a  sort  of  devotional  instinct,  and 
were  soon  wholly  absorbed  in  their  prayers  and  prostra 
tions.  It  is  very  evident  to  me  that  the  Russian  race  still 
requires  the  formulas  of  the  Eastern  Church  ;  a  fondness 
for  symbolic  ceremonies  and  observances  is  far  more  nat 
ural  to  its  character  than  to  the  nations  of  Latin  or  Saxon 
blood.  In  Southern  Europe  the  peasant  will  exchange 
merry  salutations  while  dipping  his  fingers  in  the  holy 
water,  or  turn  in  the  midst  of  his  devotions  to  inspect  a 
stranger ;  but  the  Russian,  at  such  times,  appears  lost  to 


32  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

the  world.  With  his  serious  eyes  fixed  on  the  shrine  or 
picture,  or,  maybe,  the  spire  of  a  distant  church,  his  face 
suddenly  becomes  rapt  and  solemn,  and  no  lurking  interest 
in  neighboring  things  interferes  with  its  expression. 

One  of  the  monks,  who  spoke  a  little  French,  took  us 
into  his  cell.  He  was  a  tall,  frail  man  of  thirty-five,  with  a 
wasted  face,  and  brown  hair  flowing  over  his  shoulders,  like 
most  of  his  brethren  of  the  same  age.  In  those  sharp, 
earnest  features,  one  could  see  that  the  battle  was  not  yet 
over.  The  tendency  to  corpulence  does  not  appear  until 
after  the  rebellious  passions  have  been  either  subdued,  or 
pacified  by  compromise.  The  cell  was  small,  but  neat  and 
cheerful,  on  the  ground-floor,  with  a  window  opening  on 
the  court,  and  a  hard,  narrow  pallet  against  the  wall. 
There  was  also  a  little  table,  with  books,  sacred  pictures, 
and  a  bunch  of  lilacs  in  water.  The  walls  were  white 
washed,  and  the  floor  cleanly  swept.  The  chamber  was 
austere,  certainly,  but  in  no  wise  repulsive. 

It  was  now  growing  late,  and  only  the  faint  edges  of  the 
twilight  glimmered  overhead,  through  the  fog.  It  was  not 
night,  but  a  sort  of  eclipsed  day,  hardly  darker  than  our 
winter  days  under  an  overcast  sky.  We  returned  to  the 
tower,  where  an  old  monk  took  us  in  charge.  Beside  the 
monastery  is  a  special  building  for  guests,  a  room  in  which 
was  offered  to  us.  It  was  so  clean  and  pleasant,  and  the 
three  broad  sofa-couches  with  leather  cushions  looked  so 
inviting,  that  we  decided  to  sleep  there,  in  preference  to 
the  crowded  cabin.  Our  supply  of  shawls,  moreover,  en 
abled  us  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  undressing.  Before  saying 
good-night,  the  old  monk  placed  his  hand  upon  R.'s  head. 
"  We  have  matins  at  three  o'clock,"  said  he ;  "  when  you 
hear  the  bell,  get  up,  and  come  to  the  church  :  it  will  bring 
blessing  to  you."  We  were  soon  buried  in  a  slumber 
which  lacked  darkness  to  make  it  profound.  At  two 
o'clock  the  sky  was  so  bright  that  I  thought  it  six,  and  fell 
asleep  again,  determined  to  make  three  hours  before  I 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE  LADOGA.  33 

stopped.  But  presently  the  big  bell  began  to  swing  : 
stroke  after  stroke,  it  first  aroused,  but  was  fast  lulling  rne, 
when  the  chimes  struck  in  and  sang  all  manner  of  inco 
herent  and  undevout  lines.  The  brain  at  last  grew  weary 
of  this,  when,  close  to  our  door,  a  little,  petulant,  impatient 
bell  commenced  barking  for  dear  life.  R.  muttered  and 
twisted  in  his  sleep,  and  brushed  away  the  sound  several 
times  from  his  upper  ear,  while  I  covered  mine  —  but  to 
no  purpose.  The  sharp,  fretful  jangle  went  through  shawls 
and  cushions,  and  the  fear  of  hearing  it  more  distinctly 
prevented  me  from  rising  for  matins.  Our  youth,  also, 
missed  his  promised  blessing,  and  so  we  slept  until  the  sun 
was  near  five  hours  high  —  that  is,  seven  o'clock. 

The  captain  promised  to  leave  for  Kexholm  at  eight, 
which  allowed  us  only  an  hour  for  a  visit  to  the  Konkamen, 
or  Horse  Rock,  distant  a  mile,  in  the  woods.  P.  engaged 
as  guide  a  long-haired  acolyte,  who  informed  us  that  he 
had  formerly  been  a  lithographer  in  St.  Petersburg.  We 
did  not  ascertain  the  cause  of  his  retirement  from  the 
world :  his  features  were  too  commonplace  to  suggest  a 
romance.  Through  the  mist,  which  still  hung  heavy  on 
the  lake,  we  plunged  into  the  fir-wood,  and  hurried  on  over 
its  uneven  carpet  of  moss  and  dwarf  whortleberries.  Small 
gray  boulders  then  began  to  crop  out,  and  gradually 
became  so  thick  that  the  trees  thrust  them  aside  as  they 
grew.  All  at  once  the  wood  opened  on  a  rye-field  belong 
ing  to  the  monks,  and  a  short  turn  to  the  right  brought  us 
to  a  huge  rock,  of  irregular  shape,  about  forty  feet  in  diam 
eter  by  twenty  in  height.  The  crest  overhung  the  base  on 
all  sides  except  one,  up  which  a  wooden  staircase  led  to  a 
small  square  chapel  perched  upon  the  summit. 

The  legends  attached  to  this  rock  are  various,  but  the 
most  authentic  seems  to  be,  that  in  the  ages  when  the 
Carelians  were  still  heathen,  they  were  accustomed  to 
place  their  cattle  upon  this  island  in  summer,  as  a  protec 
tion  against  the  wolves,  first  sacrificing  a  horse  upon  the 


34  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

rock.  Whether  their  deity  was  the  Perun  of  the  ancient 
Russians  or  the  Jumala  of  the  Finns  is  not  stated  ;  the  in 
habitants  at  the  present  day  say,  of  course,  the  Devil. 
The  name  of  the  rock  may  also  be  translated  "  Petrified 
Horse,"  and  some  have  endeavored  to  make  out  a  resem 
blance  to  that  animal,  in  its  form.  Our  acolyte,  for  in 
stance,  insisted  thereupon,  and  argued  very  logically  — 
"  Why,  if  you  omit  the  head  and  legs,  you  must  see  that  it 
is  exactly  like  a  horse."  The  peasants  say  that  the  devil 
had  his  residence  in  the  stone,  and  point  to  a  hole  which 
he  made,  on  being  forced  by  the  exorcisms  of  Saint  Arse- 
nius  to  take  his  departure.  A  reference  to  the  legend  is 
also  indicated  in  the  name  of  the  island,  Koriewitz,  which 
our  friend,  the  officer,  gave  to  me  in  French  as  Chevalise, 
or,  in  literal  English,  The  Horsefied. 

The  stones  and  bushes  were  dripping  from  the  visitation 
of  the  mist,  and  the  mosquitoes  were  busy  with  my  face 
and  hands  while  I  made  a  rapid  drawing  of  the  place. 
The  quick  chimes  of  the  monastery,  through  which  we 
fancied  we  could  hear  the  warning  boat-bell,  suddenly 
pierced  through  the  forest,  recalling  us.  The  Valamo  had 
her  steam  up,  when  we  arrived,  and  was  only  waiting  for 
her  rival,  the  Letuchie  (Flyer),  to  get  out  of  our  way.  As 
we  moved  from  the  shore,  a  puff  of  wind  blew  away  the 
fog,  and  the  stately  white  monastery,  crowned  with  its 
bunch  of  green  domes,  stood  for  a  moment  clear  and  bright 
in  the  morning  sun.  Our  pilgrims  bent,  bareheaded,  in 
devotional  farewell  ;  the  golden  crosses  sparkled  an  an 
swer,  and  the  fog  rushed  down  again  like  a  falling  curtain. 

We  steered  nearly  due  north,  making  for  Kexholm, 
formerly  a  frontier  Swedish  town,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
River  Wuoxen.  For  four  hours  it  was  a  tantalizing  strug 
gle  between  mist  and  sunshine  — a  fair  blue  sky  overhead, 
and  a  dense  cloud  sticking  to  the  surface  of  the  lake.  The 
wrestern  shore,  though  near  at  hand,  was  not  visible ;  but 

o  * 

our  captain,  with  his  usual  skill,  came  within  a  quarter  of 


A   CRUISE    ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  85 

a  mile  of  the  channel  leading  to  the  landing-place.  The 
fog  seemed  to  consolidate  into  the  outline  of  trees  ;  hard 
land  was  gradually  formed,  as  we  approached  ;  and  as  the 
two  river-shores  finally  inclosed  us,  the  air  cleared,  and 
long,  wooded  hills  arose  in  the  distance.  Before  us  lay  a 
single  wharf,  with  three  wooden  buildings  leaning  against 
a  hill  of  sand. 

"  But  where  is  Kexholm  ?  " 

"  A  verst  inland,"  says  the  captain  ;  "  and  I  will  give  you 
just  half  an  hour  to  see  it." 

There  were  a  score  of  peasants,  with  clumsy  two-wheeled 
carts  and  shaggy  ponies  at  the  landing.  Into  one  of  these 
we  clambered,  gave  the  word  of  command,  and  \vere 
whirled  off  at  a  gallop.  There  may  have  been  some  elas 
ticity  in  the  horse,  but  there  certainly  was  none  in  the  cart. 
It  was  a  perfect  conductor,  and  the  shock  with  which  it 
passed  over  stones  and  leaped  ruts  was  instantly  communi 
cated  to  the  os  sacrum,  passing  thence  along  the  vertebra, 
to  discharge  itself  in  the  teeth.  Our  driver  was  a  sun 
burnt  Finn,  who  was  bent  upon  performing  his  share  of 
the  contract,  in  order  that  he  might  afterwards,  with  a  bet 
ter  face,  demand  a  ruble.  On  receiving  just  the  half,  how 
ever,  he  put  it  into  his  pocket,  without  a  word  of  remon 
strance. 

"  Suomi  ?  "  I  asked,  calling  up  a  Finnish  word  with  an 
effort. 

"  Suomi-ldincn,"  he  answered,  proudly  enough,  though 
the  exact  meaning  is,  "  I  am  a  Swamplander." 

Kexholm,  which  was  founded  in  1295,  has  attained  since 
then  a  population  of  several  hundreds.  Grass  grows 
between  the  cobble-stones  of  its  broad  streets,  but  the 
houses  are  altogether  so  bright,  so  clean,  so  substantially 
comfortable,  and  the  geraniums  and  roses  peeping  out 
between  snowy  curtains  in  almost  every  window  suggested 
such  cozy  interiors,  that  I  found  myself  quite  attracted 
towards  the  plain  little  town.  "  Here,"  said  I  to  P.,  «  is  a 


36  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

nook  which  is  really  out  of  the  world.  No  need  of  a  mon 
astery,  where  you  have  such  perfect  seclusion,  and  the  in 
dispensable  solace  of  natural  society  to  make  it  endurable." 
Pleasant  faces  occasionally  looked  out,  curiously,  at  the 
impetuous  strangers :  had  they  known  our  nationality,  I 
f;incy  the  whole  population  would  have  run  together. 
Reaching  the  last  house,  nestled  among  twinkling  birch- 
trees  on  a  bend  of  the  river  beyond,  we  turned  about  and 
made  for  the  fortress  —  another  conquest  of  the  Great 
Peter.  Its  low  ramparts  had  a  shabby,  neglected  look ;  an 
old  draw-bridge  spanned  the  moat,  and  there  was  no  senti 
nel  to  challenge  us  as  we  galloped  across.  In  and  out 
again,  and  down  the  long,  quiet  street,  and  over  the  jolting 
level  to  the  top  of  the  sand  hill  —  we  had  seen  Kexholm  in 
half  an  hour. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  river  still  lay  the  fog,  waiting  for  us, 
now  and  then  stretching  a  ghostly  arm  over  the  woods 
and  then  withdrawing  it,  like  a  spirit  of  the  lake,  longing 
and  yet  timid  to  embrace  the  land.  With  the  Wuoxen 
came  down  the  waters  of  the  Saima,  that  great,  irregular 
lake,  which,  with  its  innumerable  arms,  extends  for  a  hun 
dred  and  fifty  miles  into  the  heart  of  Finland,  clasping  the 
forests  and  mountains  of  Savolax,  where  the  altar-stones 
of  Jumala  still  stand  in  the  shade  of  sacred  oaks,  and  the 
song  of  the  Kalewala  is  sung  by  the  descendants  of 
Walnamoinen.  I  registered  a  vow  to  visit  those  Finnish 
solitudes,  as  we  shot  out  upon  the  muffled  lake,  heading  for 
the  holy  isles  of  Valaam.  This  was  the  great  point  of  in 
terest  in  our  cruise,  the  shrine  of  our  pilgrim-passengers. 
We  had  heard  so  little  of  these  islands  before  leaving  St. 
Petersburg,  and  so  much  since,  that  our  curiosity  was 
keenly  excited ;  and  thus,  though  too  well  seasoned  by  ex 
perience  to  worry  unnecessarily,  the  continuance  of  the 
fog  began  to  disgust  us.  We  shall  creep  along  as  yester 
day,  said  we,  and  have  nothing  of  Valaam  but  the  sound 
of  its  bells.  The  air  was  intensely  raw ;  the  sun  had  dis- 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  37 

appeared,  and  the  bearded  peasants  again  slept,  with  open 
mouths,  on  the  deck. 

Saints  Sergius  and  Herrmann,  however,  were  not  indf- 
ferent  either  to  them  or  to  us.  About  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  we  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  sailed  out  of  the 
fog,  passing,  in  the  distance  of  a  ship's  length,  into  a  clear 
atmosphere,  with  a  far,  sharp  horizon  !  The  nuisance  of 
the  lake  lay  behind  us,  a  steep,  opaque,  white  wall.  Before 
us,  rising  in  bold  cliffs  from  the  water  and  dark  with  pines, 
were  the  islands  of  Valaam.  Off  went  hats  and  caps,  and 
the  crowd  on  deck  bent  reverently  towards  the  consecrated 
shores.  As  we  drew  near,  the  granite  fronts  of  the  sepa 
rate  isles  detached  themselves  from  the  plane  in  which 
they  were  blended,  and  thrust  boldly  out  between  the  divid 
ing  inlets  of  blue  water ;  the  lighter  green  of  birches  and 
maples  mingled  with  the  sombre  woods  of  coniferas  ;  but  the 
picture,  with  all  its  varied  features,  was  silent  and  lonely. 
No  sail  shone  over  the  lake,  no  boat  was  hauled  up  between 
the  tumbled  masses  of  rock,  no  fisher's  hut  sat  in  the  shel 
tered  coves  —  only,  at  the  highest  point  of  the  cliff,  a  huge 
wooden  cross  gleamed  white  against  the  trees. 

As  we  drew  around  to  the  northern  shore,  point  came  out 
behind  point,  all  equally  bold  with  rock,  dark  with  pines, 
and  destitute  of  any  sign  of  habitation.  We  were  looking 
forward,  over  the  nearest  headland,  when,  all  at  once,  a 
sharp  glitter  through  the  tops  of  the  pines  struck  our  eyes. 
A  few  more  turns  of  the  paddles,  and  a  bulging  dome  of 
gold  flashed  splendidly  in  the  sun  !  Our  voyage,  thus  far, 
had  been  one  of  surprises,  and  this  was  not  the  least. 
Crowning  a  slender,  pointed  roof,  its  connection  with  the 
latter  was  not  immediately  visible :  it  seemed  to  spring 
into  the  air  and  hang  there,  like  a  marvelous  meteor  shot 
from  the  sun.  Presently,  however,  the  whole  building  ap 
peared,  —  an  hexagonal  church,  of  pale-red  brick,  the 
architecture  of  which  was  an  admirable  reproduction  of  the 
older  Byzantine  forms.  It  stood  upon  a  rocky  islet,  on 


38  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

cither  side  of  which  a  narrow  channel  communicated  with 
a  deep  cove,  cleft  between  walls  of  rock. 

Turning  in  towards  the  first  of  these  channels,  we  pres 
ently  saw  the  inlet  of  darkest-blue  water,  pushing  its  way 
into  the  heart  of  the  island.  Crowning  its  eastern  bank, 
and  about  half  a  mile  distant,  stood  an  immense  mass  of 
buildings,  from  the  centre  of  which  tall  white  towers  and 
green  cupolas  shot  up  against  the  sky.  This  was  the  mon 
astery  of  Valaam.  Here,  in  the  midst  of  this  lonely  lake, 
on  the  borders  of  the  Arctic  Zone,  in  the  solitude  of  un 
hewn  forests,  was  one  of  those  palaces  which  religion  is  so 
fond  of  rearing,  to  show  her  humility.  In  the  warm  after 
noon  sunshine,  and  with  the  singular  luxuriance  of  vege 
tation  which  clothed  the  terraces  of  rock  on  either  hand, 
we  forgot  the  high  latitude,  and,  but  for  the  pines  in  the 
rear,  could  have  fancied  ourselves  approaching  some  cove 
of  Athos  or  Euboea.  The  steamer  ran  so  near  the  rocky 
walls  that  the  trailing  branches  of  the  birch  almost  swept 
her  deck ;  every  ledge  traversing  their  gray,  even  ma 
sonry,  was  crowded  with  wild  red  pinks,  geranium,  saxi 
frage,  and  golden-flowered  purslane  ;  and  the  air,  wonder 
fully  pure  and  sweet  in  itself,  was  flavored  with  delicate 
woodland  odors.  On  the  other  side,  under  the  monastery, 
was  an  orchard  of  large  apple-trees  in  full  bloom,  on  a 
shelf  near  the  water ;  above  them  grew  huge  oaks  and 
maples,  heavy  with  their  wealth  of  foliage ;  and  over  the 
tops  of  these  the  level  coping  of  the  precipice,  with  a  bal 
ustrade  upon  which  hundreds  of  pilgrims,  who  had  arrived 
before  us,  were  leaning  and  looking  down. 

Beyond  this  point,  the  inlet  widened  into  a  basin  where 
the  steamer  had  room  to  turn  around.  Here  we  found 
some  forty  or  fifty  boats  moored  to  the  bank,  while  the 
passengers  they  had  brought  (principally  from  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  lake,  and  the  district  lying  between  it  and 
Onega)  were  scattered  over  the  heights.  The  captain 
pointed  out  to  us  a  stately,  two-story  brick  edifice,  some 


A   CRUISE   ON  LAKE  LADOGA.  39 

three  hundred  feet  long,  flanking  the  monastery,  as  the 
house  for  guests.  Another  of  less  dimensions,  on  the  hill 
in  front  of  the  landing-place,  appeared  to  be  appropriated 
especially  to  the  use  of  the  peasants.  A  rich  succession  of 
musical  chimes  pealed  down  to  us  from  the  belfry,  as  if  in 
welcome,  and  our  deck  load  of  pilgrims  crossed  themselves 
in  reverent  congratulation  as  they  stepped  upon  the  sacred 
soil. 

We  had  determined  to  go  on  with  our  boat  to  Serdopol, 
at  the  head  of  the  lake,  returning  the  next  morning  in 
season  for  the  solemnities  of  the  anniversary.  Postponing, 
therefore,  a  visit  to  the  church  and  monastery,  we  climbed 
to  the  summit  of  the  bluff,  and  beheld  the  inlet  in  all  its 
length  and  depth,  from  the  open,  sunny  expanse  of  the 
lake  to  the  dark  strait  below  us,  where  the  overhanging 
trees  of  the  opposite  cliffs  almost  touched  above  the  water. 
The  honeyed  bitter  of  lilac  and  apple  blossoms  in  the 
garden  below  steeped  the  air ;  and  as  I  inhaled  the  scent, 
and  beheld  the  rich  green  crowns  of  the  oaks  which  grew 
at  the  base  of  the  rocks,  I  appreciated  the  wisdom  of  Ser- 
gius  and  Herrmann  that  led  them  to  pick  out  this  bit  of 
privileged  summer,  which  seems  to  have  wandered  into  the 
North  from  a  region  ten  degrees  nearer  the  sun.  It  is  not 
strange  if  the  people  attribute  miraculous  powers  to  them, 
naturally  mistaking  the  cause  of  their  settlement  on  Va- 
laam  for  its  effect. 

The  deck  was  comparatively  deserted,  as  we  once  more 
entered  the  lake.  There  were  two  or  three  new  passen 
gers,  however,  one  of  whom  inspired  me  with  a  mild  inter 
est.  He  was  a  St.  Petersburger,  who  according  to  his  own 
account,  had  devoted  himself  to  Art,  and,  probably  for 
that  reason,  felt  constrained  to  speak  in  the  language  of 
sentiment.  "  I  enjoy  above  all  things,"  said  he  to  me, 
"  communion  with  Nature.  My  soul  is  uplifted,  when  I 
find  myself  removed  from  the  haunts  of  men.  I  live  an 
ideal  life,  and  the  world  grows  more  beautiful  to  me  every 


40  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

year."  Now  there  was  nothing  objectionable  in  this,  ex 
cept  the  manner  of  his  saying  it.  Those  are  only  shallow 
emotions  which  one  imparts  to  every  stranger  at  the  slight 
est  provocation.  Your  true  lover  of  Nature  is  as  careful 
of  betraying  his  passion  as  the  young  man  who  carries  a 
first  love  in  his  heart.  But  my  companion  evidently  de 
lighted  in  talking  of  his  feelings  on  this  point.  His  voice 
was  soft  and  silvery,  his  eyes  gentle,  and  his  air  languish 
ing  ;  so  that,  in  spite  of  a  heavy  beard,  the  impression  he 
made  was  remarkably  smooth  and  unmasculine.  I  invol 
untarily  turned  to  one  of  the  young  Finnish  sailors,  with 
his  handsome,  tanned  face,  quick,  decided  movements,  and 
clean,  elastic  limbs,  and  felt,  instinctively,  that  what  we  most 
value  in  every  man,  above  even  culture  or  genius,  is  the 
stamp  of  sex  —  the  asserting,  self-reliant,  conquering  air 
which  marks  the  male  animal. 

After  some  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  from  the  island,  we 
approached  the  rocky  archipelago  in  which  the  lake  ter 
minates  at  its  northern  end — a  gradual  transition  from 
water  to  land.  Masses  of  gray  granite,  wooded  wherever 
the  hardy  northern  firs  could  strike  root,  rose  on  all  sides, 
divided  by  deep  and  narrow  channels.  "  This  is  the  scheer? 
said  our  captain,  using  a  word  which  recalled  to  my  mind, 
at  once,  the  Swedish  skdr,  and  the  English  skerry,  used 
alike  to  denote  a  coast-group  of  rocky  islets.  The  rock 
encroached  more  and  more  as  we  advanced  ;  and  finally, 
as  if  sure  of  its  victory  over  the  lake,  gave  place,  here  and 
there,  to  levels  of  turf,  gardens,  and  cottages.  Then  fol 
lowed  a  calm,  land-locked  basin,  surrounded  with  harvest- 
fields,  and  the  spire  of  Serdopol  arose  before  us. 

Of  this  town  I  may  report  that  it  is  called,  in  Finnish, 
Sordovala,  and  was  founded  about  the  year  1640.  Its  his 
tory  has  no  doubt  been  very  important  to  its  inhabitants, 
but  I  do  not  presume  that  it  would  be  interesting  to  the 
world,  and  therefore  spare  myself  a  great  deal  of  laborious 
research.  Small  as  it  is,  and  so  secluded  that  Ladoga 


A  CRUISE  ON  LAKE  LADOGA.          41 

seems  a  world's  highway  in  comparison  with  its  quiet 
harbor,  it  nevertheless  holds  three  races  and  three  lan 
guages  in  its  modest  bounds.  The  government  and  its 
tongue  are  Russian ;  the  people  are  mostly  Finnish,  with 
a  very  thin  upper-crust  of  Swedish  tradition,  whence  the 
latter  language  is  cultivated  as  a  sign  of  aristocracy. 

We  landed  on  a  broad  wooden  pier,  and  entered  the 
town  through  a  crowd  which  was  composed  of  all  these 
elements.  There  was  to  be  a  fair  on  the  morrow,  and  from 
the  northern  shore  of  the  lake,  as  well  as  the  wild  inland 
region  towards  the  Saima,  the  people  had  collected  for 
trade,  gossip,  and  festivity.  Children  in  ragged  garments 
of  hemp,  bleached  upon  their  bodies,  impudently  begged 
for  pocket-money ;  women  in  scarlet  kerchiefs  curiously 
scrutinized  us ;  peasants  carried  bundles  of  freshly  mown 
grass  to  the  horses  which  were  exposed  for  sale  ;  ladies 
with  Hungarian  hats,  crushed  their  crinolines  into  queer 
old  cabriolets ;  gentlemen  with  business  faces  and  an  as 
pect  of  wealth  smoked  paper  cigars ;  and  numbers  of 
hucksters  offered  baskets  of  biscuit  and  cakes,  of  a  disa 
greeable  yellow  color  and  great  apparent  toughness.  It 
was  a  repetition,  with  slight  variations,  of  a  village  fair  any 
where  else,  or  an  election  day  in  America. 

Passing  through  the  roughly  paved  and  somewhat  dirty 
streets,  past  shops  full  of  primitive  hardware,  groceries 
which  emitted  powerful  whiffs  of  salt  fish  or  new  leather, 
bakeries  with  crisp  padlocks  of  bread  in  the  windows, 
drinking-houses  plentifully  supplied  with  qvass  and  vodki, 
and,  finally,  the  one  watch-maker,  and  the  vender  of  paper, 
pens,  and  Finnish  almanacs,  we  reached  a  broad  suburban 
street,  whose  substantial  houses,  with  their  courts  and 
gardens,  hinted  at  the  aristocracy  of  Serdopol.  The  inn, 
with  its  Swedish  sign,  was  large  and  comfortable,  and  a 
peep  into  the  open  windows  disclosed  as  pleasant  quarters 
as  a  traveller  could  wish.  A  little  farther  the  town  ceased, 
and  we  found  ourselves  upon  a  rough,  sloping  common,  at 


42  BY-WA1S   OF   EUROPE. 

the  top  of  which  stood  the  church  with  its  neighboring 
belfry.  It  was  unmistakably  Lutheran  in  appearance.  — 
very  plain  and  massive  and  sober  in  color,  with  a  steep 
roof  for  shedding  snow.  The  only  attempt  at  ornament 
was  a  fanciful  shingle-mosaic,  but  in  pattern  only,  not  in 
color.  Across  the  common  ran  a  double  row  of  small 
booths,  which  had  just  been  erected  for  the  coming  fair  ; 
and  sturdy  young  fellows  from  the  country,  with  their  rough 
carts  and  shaggy  ponies,  were  gathering  along  the  high 
way,  to  skirmish  a  little  in  advance  of  their  bargains. 

The  road  enticed  us  onwards  into  the  country.  On  our 
left,  a  long  slope  descended  to  an  upper  arm  of  the  harbor, 
the  head  of  which  we  saw  to  be  near  at  hand.  The  op 
posite  shore  was  fairly  laid  out  in  grain-fields,  through 
which  cropped  out  here  and  there,  long  walls  of  granite, 
risino-  higher  and  higher  towards  the  west,  until  thev  cul- 

O  O  S  «• 

minated  in  the  round,  hard  forehead  of  a  lofty  hill.  There 
was  no  other  point  within  easy  reach  which  promised  much 
of  a  view ;  so,  rounding  the  head  of  the  bay,  we  addressed 
ourselves  to  climbing  the  rocks,  somewhat  to  the  surprise 
of  the  herd-boys,  as  they  drove  their  cows  into  the  town  to 
be  milked. 

Once  off  the  cultivated  land,  we  found  the  hill  a  very 
garden  of  wild  blooms.  Every  step  and  shelf  of  the  rocks 
was  cushioned  with  tricolored  violets,  white  anemones,  and 
a  succulent,  moss-like  plant  with  a  golden  flower.  Higher 
up  there  were  sheets  of  fire-red  pinks,  and  on  the  summit 
an  unbroken  carpet  of  the  dwarf  whortleberry,  with  its 
waxen  bells.  Light  exhalations  seemed  to  rise  from  the 
damp  hollows,  and  drift  towards  us;  but  they  resolved 
themselves  into  swarms  of  mosquitoes,  and  would  have 
made  the  hill-top  untenable,  had  they  not  been  dispersed 
by  a  sudden  breeze.  We  sat  down  upon  a  rock  and  con 
templated  the  wide-spread  panorama.  It  was  nine  o'clock, 
and  the  sun,  near  his  setting,  cast  long  gleams  of  pale 
light  through  the  clouds,  softening  the  green  of  the  fields 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  43 

and  forests  where  they  fell,  and  turning  the  moist  evening 
haze  into  lustrous  pearl.  Inlets  of  the  lake  here  and  there 
crept  in  between  the  rocky  hills;  broad  stretches  of 
gently  undulating  grain-land  were  dotted  with  the  houses, 
barns,  and  clustered  stables  of  the  Finnish  farmers  ;  in  the 
distance  arose  the  smokes  of  two  villages ;  and  beyond  all. 
as  we  looked  inland,  ran  the  sombre  ridges  of  the  fir-clad 
hills.  Below  us.  on  the  right,  the  yellow  houses  of  the 
town  shone  in  the  subdued  light  —  the  only  bright  spot  in 
the  landscape,  which  elsewhere  seemed  to  be  overlaid  with 
a  tint  of  dark,  transparent  gray.  It  was  wonderfully  silent. 
Xot  a  bird  twittered ;  no  bleat  of  sheep  or  low  of  cattle 
was  heard  from  the  grassy  fields  :  no  shout  of  children,  or 
evening  hail  from  the  returning  boats  of  the  fishers.  Over 
all  the  land  brooded  an  atmosphere  of  sleep,  of  serene, 
perpetual  peace.  To  sit  and  look  upon  it  was  in  itself  a 
refreshment  like  that  of  healthy  slumber.  The  restless 
devil  which  lurks  in  the  human  brain  was  quieted  for  the 
time,  and  we  dreamed —  knowing  all  the  while  the  vanity 
of  the  dream —  of  a  pastoral  life  in  some  such  spot  among 
as  ignorant  and  simple-hearted  a  people,  ourselves  as  un 
troubled  by  the  agitations  of  the  world. 

We  had  scarce  inhaled  —  or,  rather,  insuded.  to  coin  a 
word  for  a  sensation  which  seems  to  enter  at  every  pore  — 
the  profound  quiet  and  its  suor^estive  fancies  for  the  space 
of  half  an  hour,  when  the  wind  fell  at  the  going  down  of 
the  sun.  and  the  humming  mist  of  mosquitoes  arose  again. 
Returning  to  the  town,  we  halted  at  the  top  of  the  common 
to  watch  the  farmers  of  the  neighborhood  at  their  horse- 
dealing.  Very  hard.  keen,  weather-browned  faces  had 
they,  eyes  tight-set  for  the  main  chance,  mouths  worn  thin 
by  biting  farthings,  and  hands  whose  hard  fingers  crooked 
with  holding  fast  what  they  had  earned.  Faces  almost  of 
the  Yankee  type,  many  of  them,  and  relieved  by  the  twink 
ling  of  a  humorous  faculty  or  the  wild  gleam  of  imagina 
tion.  The  shaggy  little  horses,  of  a  dun  or  dull  tan-color, 


4i  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

seemed  to  understand  that  their  best  performance  was  re 
quired,  and  rushed  up  and  down  the  road  with  an  amazing 
exhibition  of  mettle.  I  could  understand  nothing  of  the 
Finnish  tongue  except  its  music ;  but  it  was  easy  to  per 
ceive  that  the  remarks  of  the  crowd  were  shrewd,  intelli 
gent,  and  racy.  One  young  fellow,  less  observant,  ac 
costed  us  in  the  hope  that  we  might  be  purchasers.  The 
boys,  suspecting  that  we  were  as  green  as  we  were  evi 
dently  foreign,  held  out  their  hands  for  alms,  with  a  very 
unsuccessful  air  of  distress,  but  readily  succumbed  to  the 
Russian  interjection  "proch  !  "  (be  off  !)  the  repetition  of 
which,  they  understood,  was  a  reproach. 

That  night  we  slept  on  the  velvet  couches  of  the  cabin, 
having  the  spacious  apartment  to  ourselves.  The  bright 
young  officer  had  left  for  the  copper  mines,  the  pilgrims 
were  at  Valaam,  and  our  stout,  benignant  captain  looked 
upon  us  as  his  only  faithful  passengers.  The  stewards,  in 
deed,  carried  their  kindness  beyond  reasonable  anticipa 
tions.  They  brought  us  real  pillows  and  other  con 
veniences,  bolted  the  doors  against  nightly  intruders,  and 
in  the  morning  conducted  us  into  the  pantry,  to  wash  our 
faces  in  the  basin  sacred  to  dishes.  After  I  had  com 
pleted  my  ablutions,  I  turned  dumbly,  with  dripping  face 
and  extended  hands,  for  a  towel.  My  steward  understood 
the  silent  appeal,  and,  taking  a  napkin  from  a  plate  of 
bread,  presented  it  with  alacrity.  I  made  use  of  it,  I  con 
fess,  but  hastened  out  of  the  pantry,  lest  I  should  happen 
to  see  it  restored  to  its  former  place.  How  not  to  observe 
is  a  faculty  as  necessary  to  the  traveller  as  its  reverse. 
I  was  reminded  of  this  truth  at  dinner,  when  I  saw  the 
same  steward  take  a  napkin  (probably  my  towel!)  from 
under  his  arm,  to  wipe  both  his  face  and  a  plate  which  he 
carried.  To  speak  mildly,  these  people  on  Lake  Ladoga 
are  not  sensitive  in  regard  to  the  contact  of  individualities. 
But  the  main  point  is  to  avoid  seeing  what  you  don't  like. 

We  got  off  at  an  early  hour,  and  hastened  back  to  Va- 


A   CRUISE   ON  LAKE   LADOGA.  45 

laam  over  glassy  water  and  under  a  superb  sky.  This 
time  the  lake  was  not  so  deserted,  for  the  white  wings  of 
pilgrim-boats  drew  in  towards  the  dark  island,  making  for 
the  golden  sparkle  of  the  chapel  dome,  which  shone  afar 
like  a  light-house  of  the  day-time.  As  we  rounded  to  in 
the  land-locked  inlet,  we  saw  that  the  crowds  on  the  hills 
had  doubled  since  yesterday,  and,  although  the  chimes 
were  pealing  for  some  religious  service,  it  seemed  prudent 
first  to  make  sure  of  our  quarters  for  the  night.  Accord 
ingly  we  set  out  for  the  imposing  house  of  guests  beside 
the  monastery,  arriving  in  company  with  the  visitors  we 
had  brought  with  us  from  Serdopol.  The  entrance-hall 
led  into  a  long,  stone-paved  corridor,  in  which  a  monk,  be 
wildered  by  many  applications,  appeared  to  be  seeking  re 
lief  by  promises  of  speedy  hospitality.  We  put  in  our 
plea,  and  also  received  a  promise.  On  either  side  of  the 
corridor  were  numbered  rooms,  already  occupied,  the  for 
tunate  guests  passing  in  and  out  with  a  provoking  air  of 
comfort  and  unconcern.  We  ascended  to  the  second  story, 
which  was  similarly  arranged,  and  caught  hold  of  another 
benevolent  monk,  willing,  but  evidently  powerless  to  help 
us.  Dinner  was  just  about  to  be  served;  the  brother  in 
authority  was  not  there  ;  we  must  be  good  enough  to  wait 
a  little  while  ;  —  would  we  not  visit  the  shrines,  in  the 
mean  time  ? 

The  advice  was  sensible,  as  well  as  friendly,  and  we  fol 
lowed  it.  Entering  the  great  quadrangle  of  the  monas 
tery,  we  found  it  divided,  gridiron-fashion,  into  long,  nar 
row  court-yards  by  inner  lines  of  buildings.  The  central 
court,  however,  was  broad  and  spacious,  the  church  occu 
pying  a  rise  of  ground  on  the  eastern  side.  Hundreds  of 
men  and  women  —  Carelian  peasants  —  thronged  around 
the  entrance,  crossing  themselves  in  unison  with  the  con 
gregation.  The  church,  we  found,  was  packed,  and  the 
most  zealous  wedging  among  the  blue  caftans  and  shining 
flaxen  heads  brought  us  no  farther  than  the  inner  door. 


4G  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

Thence  we  looked  over  a  tufted  level  of  heads  that  seemed 
to  touch  —  intermingled  tints  of  gold,  tawny,  sz7m--blond, 
and  the  various  shades  of  brown,  touched  with  dim  glosses 
through  the  incense-smoke,  and  occasionally  bending  in 
concert,  with  an  undulating  movement,  like  grain  before 
the  wind.  Over  these  heads  rose  the  vaulted  nave,  daz 
zling  with  gold  and  colors,  and  blocked  up,  beyond  the  in 
tersection  of  the  transept,  by  the  ikonostast,  or  screen 
before  the  Holy  of  Holies,  gorgeous  with  pictures  of  saints 
overlaid  with  silver.  In  front  of  the  screen  the  tapers 
burned,  the  incense  rose  thick  and  strong,  and  the  chant 
of  the  monks  gave  a  peculiar  solemnity  to  their  old  Scla 
vonic  litany.  The  only  portion  of  it  which  I  could  under 
stand  was  the  recurring  response,  as  in  the  English  Church, 
of  "  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us  !  " 

Extricating  ourselves  with  some  difficulty,  we  entered  a 
chapel-crypt,  which  contains  the  bodies  of  Sergius  and 
Herrmann.  They  lie  together,  in  a  huge  coffin  of  silver, 
covered  with  cloth  of  gold.  Tapers  of  immense  size  burned 
at  the  head  and  foot,  and  the  pilgrims  knelt  around,  bend 
ing  their  foreheads  to  the  pavement  at  the  close  of  their 
prayers.  Among  others,  a  man  had  brought  his  insane 
daughter,  and  it  was  touching  to  see  the  tender  care  with 
which  he  led  her  to  the  coffin  and  directed  her  devotions. 
So  much  of  habit  still  remained,  that  it  seemed,  for  the 
time  being,  to  restore  her  reason.  The  quietness  and  reg 
ularity  with  which  she  went  through  the  forms  of  prayer, 
brought  a  light  of  hope  to  the  father's  face.  The  other 
peasants  looked  on  with  an  expression  of  pity  and  sym 
pathy.  The  girl,  we  learned,  had  but  recently  lost  her 
reason,  and  without  any  apparent  cause.  She  was  be 
trothed  to  a  young  man  who  was  sincerely  attached  to  her, 
and  the  pilgrimage  was  undertaken  in  the  hope  that  a  mir 
acle  might  be  wrought  in  her  favor.  The  presence  of 
the  shrine,  indeed,  struck  its  accustomed  awe  through  her 
wandering  senses,  but  the  effect  was  only  momentary. 


A    CRUISE   ON   LAKE  LADOGA.  47 

I  approached  the  coffin,  and  deposited  a  piece  of  money 
on  the  offering-plate,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  glimpse 
of  the  pictured  faces  of  the  saints,  in  their  silver  setting. 
Their  features  were  hard  and  regular,  flatly  painted,  as  if 
by  some  forerunner  of  Cimabue,  but  sufficiently  modern  to 
make  the  likeness  doubtful.  I  have  not  been  able  to  obtain 
the  exact  date  of  their  settlement  on  the  island,  but  I  be 
lieve  it  is  referred  to  the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
The  common  people  believe  that  the  island  was  first  visited 
by  Andrew,  the  Apostle  of  Christ,  who,  according  to  the 
Russian  patriarch  Nestor,  made  his  way  to  Kiev  and  Nov 
gorod.  The  latter  place  is  known  to  have  been  an  impor 
tant  commercial  city  as  early  as  the  fourth  century,  and 
had  a  regular  intercourse  with  Asia.  The  name  of  Valaam 

o 

does  not  come  from  Balaam,  as  one  might  suppose,  but 
seems  to  be  derived  from  the  Finnish  varamo,  which  sig 
nifies  "  herring-ground."  The  more  I  attempted  to  unravel 
the  history  of  the  island,  the  more  it  became  involved  in 
obscurity,  and  this  fact,  I  must  confess,  only  heightened  my 
interest  in  it.  I  found  myself  ready  to  accept  the  tradition 
of  Andrew's  visit,  and  I  accepted  without  a  doubt  the  grave 
of  King  Magnus  of  Sweden. 

On  issuing  from  the  crypt,  we  encountered  a  young 
monk  who  had  evidently  been  sent  in  search  of  us.  The 
mass  was  over,  and  the  court-yard  was  nearly  emptied  of 
its  crowd.  In  the  farther  court,  however,  we  found  the 
people  more  dense  than  ever,  pressing  forward  towards  a 
small  door.  The  monk  made  way  for  us  with  some  diffi 
culty  —  for,  though  the  poor  fellows  did  their  best  to  fall 
back,  the  pressure  from  the  outside  was  tremendous. 
Having  at  last  run  the  gauntlet,  we  found  ourselves  in  the 
refectory  of  the  monastery,  inhaling  a  thick  steam  of  fish 
and  cabbao-e.  Three  long  tables  were  filled  with  monks 

O  O 

and  pilgrims,  while  the  attendants  brought  in  the  fish  on 
large  wooden  trenchers.  The  plates  were  of  common  white 
ware,  but  the  spoons  were  of  wood.  Officers  in  gay  uni- 


48  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

forms  were  scattered  among  the  dark  anchorites,  who  oc 
cupied  one  end  of  the  table,  while  the  bourgeoisie,  with 
here  and  there  a  blue-caftaned  peasant  wedged  among 
them,  filled  the  other  end.  They  were  eating  with  great 
zeal,  while  an  old  priest,  standing,  read  from  a  Sclavonic 
Bible.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon  us  as  we  entered,  and 
there  was  not  a  vacant  chair  in  which  we  could  hide  our 
intrusion.  It  was  rather  embarrassing,  especially  as  the 
young  monk  insisted  that  we  should  remain,  and  the  curious 
eyes  of  the  eaters  as  constantly  asked,  "Who  are  these, 
and  what  do  they  want  ?  "  We  preferred  returning  through 
the  hungry  crowd,  and  made  our  way  to  the  guests'  house. 

Here  a  similar  process  was  going  on.  The  corridors 
were  thronged  with  peasants  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes, 
and  the  good  fathers,  more  than  ever  distracted,  were  in 
capable  of  helping  us.  Seeing  a  great  crowd  piled  up 
against  a  rear  basement-door,  we  descended  the  stairs,  and 
groped  our  way  through  manifold  steams  and  noises  to  a 
huge  succession  of  kitchens,  where  cauldrons  of  cabbage 
were  bubbling,  and  shoals  of  fish  went  in  raw  and  came 
out  cooked.  In  another  room  some  hundreds  of  peasants 
were  eating  with  all  the  energy  of  a  primitive  appetite. 
Soup  leaked  out  of  the  bowls  as  if  they  had  been  sieves  ; 
fishes  gave  a  whisk  of  the  tail  and  vanished ;  great  round 
boulders  of  bread  went  off,  layer  after  layer,  and  still  the 
empty  plates  were  held  up  for  more.  It  was  grand  eating, 
—  pure  appetite,  craving  only  food  in  a  general  sense :  no 
picking  out  of  tidbits,  no  spying  here  and  there  for  a  fa 
vorite  dish,  but,  like  a  huge  fire,  devouring  everything  that 
came  in  its  way.  The  stomach  was  here  a  patient,  unques 
tioning  serf,  not  a  master  full  of  whims,  requiring  to  be 
petted  and  conciliated.  So,  I  thought,  people  must  have 
eaten  in  the  Golden  Age :  so  Adam  and  Eve  must  have 
dined,  before  the  fall  made  them  epicurean  and  dyspeptic. 

We  —  degenerate  through  culture  —  found  the  steams  of 
the  strong,  coarse  dishes  rather  unpleasant,  and  retreated 


A    CRUISE    ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  49 

by  a  back  way,  which  brought  us  to  a  spiral  staircase.  We 
ascended  for  a  long  time,  and  finally  emerged  into  the  gar 
ret  of  the  building,  hot,  close,  and  strawy  as  a  barn-loft. 
It  was  divided  into  rooms,  in  which,  on  the  floors  covered 
deep  with  straw,  the  happy  pilgrims  who  had  finished  their 
dinner  were  lying  on  their  bellies,  lazily  talking  themselves 
to  sleep.  The  grassy  slope  in  front  of  the  house,  and  all 
the  neighboring  heights,  were  soon  covered  in  like  manner. 
Men,  women,  and  children  threw  themselves  down,  drawing 
off  their  heavy  boots,  and  dipping  their  legs,  knee-deep, 
into  the  sun  and  air.  An  atmosphere  of  utter  peace  and 
satisfaction  settled  over  them. 

Being  the  only  foreign  and  heterodox  persons  present, 
we  began  to  feel  ourselves  deserted,  when  the  favor  of  Ser- 
gius  and  Herrmann  was  again  manifested.  P.  was  suddenly 
greeted  by  an  acquaintance,  an  officer  connected  with  the 
Imperial  Court,  who  had  come  to  Valaam  for  a  week  of  de 
votion.  He  immediately  interested  himself  in  our  behalf, 
procured  us  a  room  with  a  lovely  prospect,  transferred  his 
bouquet  of  lilacs  and  peonies  to  our  table,  and  produced 
his  bottle  of  lemon-syrup  to  flavor  our  tea.  The  rules  of 
the  monastery  are  very  strict,  and  no  visitor  is  exempt  from 
their  observance.  Not  a  fish  can  be  caught,  not  a  bird  or 
beast  shot,  no  wine  or  liquor  of  any  kind,  nor  tobacco  in 
any  form,  used  on  the  island.  Rigid  as  the  organization 
seems,  it  bears  equally  on  every  member  of  the  brother 
hood  :  the  equality  upon  which  such  associations  were  orig 
inally  based  is  here  preserved.  The  monks  are  only  in 
an  ecclesiastical  sense  subordinate  to  the  abbot.  Other 
wise,  the  fraternity  seems  to  be  about  as  complete  as  in  the 
early  days  of  Christianity. 

The  Valamo,  and  her  rival,  the  Letuchie,  had  advertised 
a  trip  to  the  Holy  Island,  the  easternmost  of  the  Valaam 
group,  some  six  miles  from  the  monastery,  and  the  weather 
was  so  fair  that  both  boats  were  crowded,  many  of  the 
monks  accompanying  us.  Our  new-found  friend  was  also 
4 


50  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

of  the  party,  and  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  Finnish 
student  from  the  Lyceum  at  Kuopio,  who  gave  me  descrip 
tions  of  the  Saima  Lake  and  the  wilds  of  Savolax.  llun- 
ning  eastward  along  the  headlands,  we  passed  Chernoi 
Noss  (Black-Nose),  the  name  of  which  again  recalled  a 
term  common  in  the  Orkneys  and  Shetlands  —  noss,  there, 
signifying  a  headland.  The  Holy  Island  rose  before  us, 
a  circular  pile  of  rock,  crowned  with  wood,  like  a  huge, 
unfinished  tower  of  Cyclopean  masonry,  built  up  out  of  the 
deep  water.  Far  beyond  it,  over  the  rim  of  the  lake,  glim 
mered  the  blue  eastern  shore.  As  we  drew  near,  we  found 
that  the  tumbled  fragments  of  rock  had  been  arranged, 
with  great  labor,  to  form  a  capacious  foot-path  around  the 
base  of  the  island.  The  steamers  drew  up  against  this 
narrow  quay,  upon  which  we  landed,  under  a  granite  wall 
which  rose  perpendicularly  to  the  height  of  seventy  or 
eighty  feet.  The  firs  on  the  summit  grew  out  to  the  very 
edge  and  stretched  their  dark  arms  over  us.  Every  cran 
ny  of  the  rock  was  filled  with  tufts  of  white  and  pink 
flowers,  and  the  moisture,  trickling  from  above,  betrayed 
itself  in  long  lines  of  moss  and  fern. 

I  followed  the  pilgrims  around  to  the  sunny  side  of  the 
island,  and  found  a  wooden  staircase  at  a  point  where  the 
wall  was  somewhat  broken  away.  Reaching  the  top  of  the 
first  ascent,  the  sweet  breath  of  a  spring  woodland  breathed 
around  me.  I  looked  under  the  broken  roofage  of  the 
boughs  upon  a  blossoming  jungle  of  shrubs  and  plants  which 
seemed  to  have  been  called  into  life  by  a  more  potent  sun. 
The  lily  of  the  valley,  in  thick  beds,  poured  out  the  deli 
cious  sweetness  of  its  little  cups ;  spikes  of  a  pale-green 
orchis  emitted  a  rich  cinnamon  odor  ;  anemones,  geraniums, 
sigillarias,  and  a  feathery  flower,  white,  freckled  with  pur 
ple,  grew  in  profusion.  The  top  of  the  island,  five  or  six 
acres  in  extent,  was  a  slanting  plane,  looking  to  the  south, 
whence  it  received  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun.  It  was 
an  enchanting  picture  of  woodland  bloom,  lighted  with 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE  LADOGA.  51 

sprinkled  sunshine,  in  the  cold  blue  setting  of  the  lake, 
which  was  visible  on  all  sides,  between  the  boles  of  the 
trees.  I  hailed  it  as  an  idyl  of  the  North  —  a  poetic 
secret,  which  the  earth,  even  where  she  is  most  cruelly 
material  and  cold,  still  tenderly  hides  and  cherishes. 

A  peasant,  whose  scarlet  shirt  flashed  through  the  bushes 
like  a  sudden  fire,  seeing  me  looking  at  the  flowers, 
gathered  a  handful  of  lilies,  which  he  offered  to  me,  saying, 
"  Prekrasnie  "  (beautiful).  Without  waiting  for  thanks,  he 
climbed  a  second  flight  of  steps  and  suddenly  disappeared 
from  view.  I  followed,  and  found  myself  in  front  of  a  nar 
row  aperture  in  a  rude  wall,  which  had  been  built  up  under 
an  overhanging  mass  of  rocks.  A  lamp  was  twinkling 
within,  and  presently  several  persons  crawled  out,  crossing 
themselves  and  muttering  prayers. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  asked  a  person  who  had  just  arrived. 

"  The  cave  of  Alexander  Svirski,"  was  the  answer. 

Alexander  of  the  Svir  —  a  river  flowing  from  the  Onega 
Lake  into  Ladoga  —  was  a  hermit  who  lived  for  twenty 
years  on  the  Holy  Island,  inhabiting  the  hole  before  us 
through  the  long,  dark,  terrible  winters,  in  a  solitude 
broken  only  when  the  monks  of  Valaam  came  over  the  ice 
to  replenish  his  stock  of  provisions.  Verily,  the  hermits 
of  the  Thebaid  were  Sybarites,  compared  to  this  man ! 
There  are  still  two  or  three  hermits  who  have  charge  of 
outlying  chapels  on  the  islands,  and  live  wholly  secluded 
from  their  brethren.  They  wear  dresses  covered  with 
crosses  and  other  symbols,  and  are  considered  as  dead  to 
the  world.  The  ceremony  which  consecrates  them  for 
this  service  is  that  for  the  burial  of  the  dead. 

I  managed,  with  some  difficulty,  to  creep  into  Alexander 
Svirski's  den.  I  saw  nothing,  however,  but  the  old,  smoky, 
and  sacred  picture  before  which  the  lamp  burned.  The 
rocky  roof  was  so  low  that  I  could  not  stand  upright,  and 
all  the  walls  I  could  find  were  the  bodies  of  pilgrims  who 
had  squeezed  in  before  me.  A  confused  whisper  surrounded 


52  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

me  in  the  darkness,  and  the  air  was  intolerably  close.  I 
therefore  made  my  escape  and  mounted  to  the  chapel,  on 
the  highest  part  of  the  island.  A  little  below  it,  an  open 
pavilion,  with  seats,  has  been  built  over  the  sacred  spring 
from  which  the  hermit  drank,  and  thither  the  pilgrims 
thronged.  The  water  was  served  in  a  large  wooden  bc-wl, 
and  each  one  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  before  drinking. 
By  waiting  for  my  turn  I  ascertained  that  the  spring  was 
icy-cold,  and  very  pure  and  sweet. 

I  found  myself  lured  to  the  highest  cliff,  whence  I  could 
look  out,  through  the  trees,  on  the  far,  smooth  disk  of  the 
lake.  Smooth  and  fair  as  the  ^Egean  it  lay  before  me,  and 
the  trees  were  silent  as  olives  at  noonday  on  the  shores  of 
Cos.  But  how  different  in  color,  in  sentiment !  Here, 
perfect  sunshine  can  never  dust  the  water  with  the  purple 
bloom  of  the  South,  can  never  mellow  its  hard,  cold  tint  of 
greenish-blue.  The  distant  hills,  whether  dark  or  light, 
are  equally  cold,  and  are  seen  too  nakedly  through  the 
crystal  air  to  admit  of  any  illusion.  Bracing  as  is  this 
atmosphere,  the  gods  could  never  breathe  it.  It  would 
revenge  on  the  ivory  limbs  of  Apollo  his  treatment  of 
Marsyas.  No  foam-born  Aphrodite  could  rise  warm  from 
yonder  wave  ;  not  even  the  cold,  sleek  Nereids  could  breast 
its  keen  edge.  We  could  only  imagine  it  disturbed,  tem 
porarily,  by  the  bath-plunge  of  hardy  Vikings,  who  must 
have  come  out  from  it  red  and  tingling  from  head  to  heel. 
"  Come  !  "  cried  P.,  "  the  steamer  is  about  to  leave  !  " 
We  all  wandered  down  the  steps,  I  with  my  lilies  in  my 
hand.  Even  the  rough  peasants  seemed  reluctant  to  leave 
the  spot,  and  not  wholly  for  the  sake  of  Alexander  Svirski. 
We  were  all  safely  embarked  and  carried  back  to  Yalaam, 
leaving  the  island  to  its  solitude.  Alexis  (as  I  shall  call 
our  Russian  friend)  put  us  in  charge  of  a  native  artist  who 
knew  every  hidden  beauty  of  Valaam,  and  suggested  an 
exploration  of  the  inlet,  while  he  went  back  to  his  devo 
tions.  We  borrowed  a  boat  from  the  monks,  and  im- 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  53 

pressed  a  hardy  fisherman  into  our  service.  I  supposed 
we  had  already  seen  the  extent  of  the  inlet,  but  on  reach 
ing  its  head  a  narrow  side-channel  disclosed  itself,  passing 
away  under  a  quaint  bridge  and  opening  upon  an  inner 
lake  of  astonishing  beauty.  The  rocks  were  disposed  in 
every  variety  of  grouping  —  sometimes  rising  in  even  ter 
races,  step  above  step,  sometimes  thrusting  out  a  sheer 
wall  from  the  summit,  or  lying  slantwise  in  masses  split  off 
by  the  wedges  of  the  ice.  The  fairy  birches,  in  their  thin 
foliage,  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  water  like  Dryads  undress 
ing  for  a  bath,  while  the  shaggy  male  firs  elbowed  each 
other  on  the  heights  for  a  look  at  them.  Other  channels 
opened  in  the  distance,  with  glimpses  of  other  and  as  beau 
tiful  harbors  in  the  heart  of  the  islands.  "  You  may  sail 
for  seventy-five  versts,"  said  the  painter,  "  without  seeing 
them  all." 

The  fearlessness  of  all  wild  creatures  showed  that  the 
rules  of  the  good  monks  had  been  carefully  obeyed.  The 
wild  ducks  swam  around  our  boat,  or  brooded,  in  conscious 
security,  on  their  nests  along  the  shore.  Three  great 
herons,  fishing  in  a  shallow,  rose  slowly  into  the  air  and 
flew  across  the  water,  breaking  the  silence  with  their  hoarse 
trumpet  note.  Further  in  the  woods  there  are  herds  of 
wild  reindeer,  which  are  said  to  have  become  gradually 
tame.  This  familiarity  of  the  animals  took  away  from  the 
islands  all  that  was  repellent  in  their  solitude.  It  half  re 
stored  the  broken  link  between  man  and  the  subject  forms 
of  life. 

The  sunset  light  was  on  the  trees  when  we  started,  but 
here  in  the  North  it  is  no  fleeting  glow.  It  lingers  for 
hours  even,  fading  so  imperceptibly  that  you  scarcely  know 
when  it  has  ceased.  Thus,  when  we  returned  after  a  long 
pull,  craving  the  Lenten  fare  of  the  monastery,  the  same 
soft  gold  tinted  its  clustering  domes.  We  were  not  called 
upon  to  visit  the  refectory,  but  a  table  was  prepared  in  our 
room.  The  first  dish  had  the  appearance  of  a  salad,  with 


51  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

the  accompaniment  of  black  bread.  On  carefully  tasting, 
I  discovered  the  ingredients  to  be  raw  salt  fish  chopped 
fine,  cucumbers,  and  —  beer.  The  taste  of  the  first  spoon 
ful  was  peculiar,  of  the  second  tolerable,  of  the  third  de 
cidedly  palatable.  Beyond  this  I  did  not  go,  for  we  had 
fresh  fish,  boiled  in  enough  water  to  make  a  soup.  Then 
the  same,  fried  in  its  own  fat,  and,  as  salt  and  pepper  were 
allowed,  we  did  not  scorn  our  supper. 

The  next  day  was  the  festival  of  Peter  and  Paul,  and 
Alexis  had  advised  us  to  make  an  excursion  te  a  place 
called  Jelesniki.  In  the  morning,  however,  we  learned 
that  the  monastery  and  its  grounds  were  to  be  consecrated 
in  solemn  procession.  The  chimes  pealed  out  quick  and 
joyously,  and  soon  a  burst  of  banners  and  a  cloud  of  in 
cense  issued  from  the  great  gate.  All  the  pilgrims  — 
nearly  two  thousand  in  number  —  thronged  around  the 
double  line  of  chanting  monks,  and  it  was  found  necessary 
to  inclose  the  latter  in  a  hollow  square,  formed  by  a  linked 
chain  of  hands.  As  the  morning  sun  shone  on  the  bare 
headed  multitude,  the  beauty  of  their  unshorn  hair  struck 
me  like  a  new  revelation.  Some  of  the  heads,  of  lustrous, 
flossy  gold,  actually  shone  by  their  own  light.  It  was 
marvelous  that  skin  so  hard  and  coarse  in  texture  should 
produce  such  beautiful  hair.  The  beards  of  the  men,  also, 
were  strikingly  soft  and  rich.  They  never  shave,  and  thus 
avoid  bristles,  the  down  of  adolescence  thickening  into  a 
natural  beard. 

As  the  procession  approached,  Alexis,  who  was  walking 
behind  the  monks,  inside  the  protecting  guard,  beckoned 
to  us  to  join  him.  The  peasants  respectfully  made  way, 
two  hands  unlinked  to  admit  us,  and  we  became,  unex 
pectedly,  participants  in  the  ceremonies.  From  the  south 
side  the  procession  moved  around  to  the  east,  where  a  litany 
was  again  chanted.  The  fine  voices  of  the  monks  lost  but 
little  of  their  volume  in  the  open  air ;  there  was  no  wind, 
and  the  tapers  burned  and  the  incense  diffused  itself,  as  in 


A   CRUISE    ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  55 

the  church.  A  sacred  picture,  which  two  monks  carried 
on  a  sort  of  litter,  was  regarded  with  particular  reverence 
by  the  pilgrims,  numbers  of  whom  crept  under  the  line  of 
guards  to  snatch  a  moment's  devotion  before  it.  At  every 
pause  in  the  proceedings  there  was  a  rush  from  all  sides, 
and  the  poor  fellows  who  formed  the  lines  held  each  other's 
hands  with  all  their  strength.  Yet,  flushed,  sweating,  and 
exhausted  as  they  were,  the  responsibility  of  their  position 
made  them  perfectly  proud  and  happy.  They  were  the 
guardians  of  cross  and  shrine,  of  the  holy  books,  the  monks, 
and  the  abbot  himself. 

From  the  east  side  we  proceeded  to  the  north,  where 
the  dead  monks  sleep  in  their  cemetery,  high  over  the 
watery  gorge.  In  one  corner  of  this  inclosure,  under  a 
group  of  giant  maples,  is  the  grave  of  King  Magnus  of 
Sweden,  who  is  said  to  have  perished  by  shipwreck  on  the 
island.  Here,  in  the  deep  shade,  a  solemn  mass  for  the 
dead  was  chanted.  Nothing  could  have  added  to  the  im- 

o 

pressiveness  of  the  scene.  The  tapers  burning  under  the 
thick-leaved  boughs,  the.  light  smoke  curling  up  in  the 
shade,  the  grave  voices  of  the  monks,  the  bending  heads 
of,  the  beautiful-haired  crowd,  and  the  dashes  of  white, 
pink,  scarlet,  blue,  and  gold  in  their  dresses,  made  a  pic 
ture  the  solemnity  of  which  was  only  heightened  by  its 
pomp  of  color.  I  can  do  no  more  than  give  the  features  ; 
the  reader  must  recornbine  them  in  his  own  mind. 

The  painter  accompanied  us  to  the  place  called  Jelesniki, 
which,  after  a  walk  of  four  miles  through  the  forests,  we 
found  to  be  a  deserted  village,  with  a  chapel  on  a  rocky 
headland.  There  was  a  fine  bridge  across  the  dividing 
strait,  and  the  place  may  have  been  as  picturesque  as  it 
was  represented.  On  that  side  of  the  islands,  however, 
there  was  a  dense  fog,  and  we  could  get  no  view  beyond  a 
hundred  yards.  We  had  hoped  to  see  reindeer  in  the 
woods,  and  an  eagle's  nest,  and  various  other  curiosities ; 
but  where  there  was  no  fog  there  were  mosquitoes,  and 
the  search  became  discouraging. 


56  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

On  returning  to  the  monastery,  a  register  was  brought 
to  us,  in  which,  on  looking  back  for  several  years,  we  could 
find  but  one  foreign  visitor  —  a  Frenchman.  We  judged, 
therefore,  that  the  abbot  would  possibly  expect  us  to  call 
upon  him,  and,  indeed,  the  hospitality  we  had  received  ex 
acted  it.  We  found  him  receiving  visitors  in  a  plain  but 
comfortable  room,  in  a  distant  part  of  the  building.  He 
was  a  man  of  fifty-five,  frank  and  self-possessed  in  his  man 
ners,  and  of  an  evident  force  and  individuality  of  character. 
His  reception  of  the  visitors,  among  whom  was  a  lady,  was 
at  once  courteous  and  kindly.  A  younger  monk  brought 
us  glasses  of  tea.  Incidentally  learning  that  I  had  visited 
the  Holy  Places  in  Syria,  the  abbot  sent  for  some  pictures 
of  the  monastery  and  its  chosen  saints,  which  he  asked  rne 
to  keep  as  a  souvenir  of  Valaam.  He  also  presented  each 
of  us  with  a  cake  of  unleavened  bread,  stamped  with  the 
cross,  and  with  a  triangular  piece  cut  out  of  the  top,  to 
indicate  the  Trinity.  On  parting,  he  gave  his  hand,  which 
the  orthodox  visitors  devoutly  kissed.  Before  the  steamer 
sailed,  we  received  fresh  evidence  of  his  kindness,  in  the 
present  of  three  large  loaves  of  consecrated  bread,  and  a 
bunch  of  lilacs  from  the  garden  of  the  monastery. 

Through  some  misunderstanding,  we  failed  to  dine  in 
the  refectory,  as  the  monks  desired,  and  their  hospitable 
regret  on  this  account  was  the  only  shade  on  our  enjoy 
ment  of  the  visit.  Alexis  remained,  in  order  to  complete 
his  devotions  by  partaking  of  the  Communion  on  the  fol 
lowing  Sabbath  ;  but  as  the  anniversary  solemnities  closed 
at  noon,  the  crowd  of  pilgrims  prepared  to  return  home. 
The  Valamo,  too,  sounded  her  warning  bell,  so  we  left  the 
monastery  as  friends  where  we  had  arrived  as  strangers, 
and  went  on  board.  Boat  after  boat,  gunwale-deep  with 
the  gay  Carelians,  rowed  down  the  inlet,  and  in  the  space 
of  half  an  hour  but  a  few  stragglers  were  left  of  all  the 
multitude.  Some  of  the  monks  came  down  to  say  another 
good-bye,  and  the  under-abbot,  blessing  R.,  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross  upon  his  brow  and  breast. 


A   CRUISE   ON   LAKE   LADOGA.  57 

When  we  reached  the  golden  dome  of  St.  Nicholas,  at 
the  outlet  of  the  harbor,  the  boats  had  set  their  sails,  and 
the  lake  was  no  longer  lonely.  Scores  of  white  wings 
gleamed  in  the  sun,  as  they  scattered  away  in  radii  from 
the  central  and  sacred  point,  some  north,  some  east,  and 
some  veering  south  around  Holy  Island.  Sergius  and 
Herrmann  gave  them  smooth  seas,  and  light,  favorable 
airs ;  for  the  least  roughness  would  have  carried  them, 
overladen  as  they  were,  to  the  bottom.  Once  more  the 
bells  of  Valaam  chimed  farewell,  and  we  turned  the  point 
to  the  westward,  steering  back  to  Kexholm. 

Late  that  night  we  reached  our  old  moorage  at  Konewitz, 
and  on  Saturday,  at  the  appointed  hour,  landed  in  St. 
Petersburg.  We  carried  the  white  cross  at  the  fore  as  we 
descended  the  Neva,  and  the  bells  of  the  churches  along 
the  banks  welcomed  our  return.  And  now,  as  I  recall 
those  five  days  among  the  islands  of  the  Northern  Lake, 
I  see  that  it  is  good  to  go  on  a  pilgrimage,  even  if  one  is 
not  a  pilgrim. 


BETWEEN  EUROPE   AND  ASIA. 


"  Pushed  off  from  one  shore,  and  not  yet  landed  on  the  other." 

Russian  Proverb, 


THE  railroad  from  Moscow  to  Nijni-Novgorod  had  been 
opened  but  a  fortnight  before.  It  was  scarcely  finished, 
indeed ;  for,  in  order  to  facilitate  travel  during  the  con 
tinuance  of  the  Great  Fair  at  the  latter  place,  the  gaps  in 
the  line,  left  by  unbuilt  bridges,  were  filled  up  with  tempo 
rary  trestle-work.  The  one  daily  express-train  was  so 
thronged  that  it  required  much  exertion,  and  the  freest  use 
of  the  Envoy's  prestige,  to  secure  a  private  carriage  for  our 
party.  The  sun  was  sinking  over  the  low,  hazy  ridge  of 
the  Sparrow  Hills  as  we  left  Moscow :  and  we  enjoyed  one 
more  glimpse  of  the  inexhaustible  splendor  of  the  city's 
thousand  golden  domes  and  pinnacles,  softened  by  lumi 
nous  smoke  and  transfigured  dust,  before  the  dark  woods 
of  fir  intervened,  and  the  twilight  sank  down  on  cold  and 
lonely  landscapes. 

Thence,  until  darkness,  there  was  nothing  more  to  claim 
attention.  Whoever  has  seen  one  landscape  of  Central 
Russia  is  familiar  with  three  fourths  of  the  whole  region. 
Nowhere  else  —  not  even  on  the  levels  of  Illinois  —  are 
the  same  features  so  constantly  reproduced.  One  long^ 
low  swell  of  earth  succeeds  to  another  ;  it  is  rare  that  any 
other  woods  than  birch  and  fir  are  seen  ;  the  cleared  land 
presents  a  continuous  succession  of  pasture,  rye,  wheat, 
potatoes,  and  cabbages ;  and  the  villages  are  as  like  as 
peas,  in  their  huts  of  unpainted  logs,  clustering  around  a 
white  church  with  five  green  domes.  It  is  a  monotony 
which  nothing  but  the  richest  culture  can  prevent  from  be 
coming  tiresome.  Culture  is  to  Nature  what  good  manners 
are  to  man,  rendering  poverty  of  character  endurable. 

Stationing  a  servant  at  the  door  to  prevent  intrusion  at 


62  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

the  way-stations,  we  let  down  the  curtains  before  our  win 
dows,  and  secured  a  comfortable  privacy  for  the  night, 
whence  we  issued  only  once,  during  a  halt  for  supper.  I 
entered  the  refreshment-room  with  very  slender  expecta 
tions,  but  was  immediately  served  with  plump  partridges, 
tender  cutlets,  and  green  peas.  The  Russians  made  a 
rush  for  the  great  samovar  (tea-urn)  of  brass,  which  shone 
from  one  end  of  the  long  table  ;  and  presently  each  had 
his  tumbler  of  scalding  tea,  with  a  slice  of  lemon  floating 
on  the  top.  These  people  drink  beverages  of  a  tempera 
ture  which  would  take  the  skin  off  Anglo-Saxon  mouths. 
My  tongue  was  more  than  once  blistered,  on  beginning  to 
drink  after  they  had  emptied  their  glasses.  There  is  no 
station  without  its  steaming  samovar ;  and  some  persons, 
I  verily  believe,  take  their  thirty-three  hot  teas  between 
Moscow  and  St.  Petersburg. 

There  is  not  much  choice  of  dishes  in  the  interior  of 
Russia  ;  but  what  one  does  get  is  sure  to  be  tolerably  good. 
Even  on  the  Beresina  and  the  Dnieper  I  have  always  fared 
better  than  at  most  of  the  places  in  our  country  where 
"  Ten  minutes  for  refreshments !  "  is  announced  day  by  day 
and  year  by  year.  Better  a  single  beef-steak,  where  ten 
derness  is,  than  a  stalled  ox,  all  gristle  and  grease.  But 
then  our  cooking  (for  the  public  at  least)  is  notoriously  the 
worst  in  the  civilized  world ;  and  I  can  safely  pronounce 
the  Russian  better,  without  commending  it  very  highly. 

Some  time  in  the  night  we  passed  the  large  town  of 
Vladimir,  and  with  the  rising  sun  were  well  on  our  way  to 
the  Volga.  I  pushed  aside  the  curtains,  and  looked  out, 
to  see  what  changes  a  night's  travel  had  wrought  in  the 
scenery.  It  was  a  pleasant  surprise.  On  the  right  stood  a 
large,  stately  residence,  embowered  in  gardens  and  orch 
ards  ;  while  beyond  it,  stretching  away  to  the  southeast, 
opened  a  broad,  shallow  valley.  The  sweeping  hills  on  either 
side  were  dotted  with  shocks  of  rye ;  and  their  thousands 
of  acres  of  stubble  shone  like  gold  in  the  level  rays.  Herds 


BETWEEN  EUROPE   AND   ASIA.  63 

of  cattle  were  pasturing  in  the  meadows,  and  the  peasants 
^serfs  no  longer)  were  straggling  out  of  the  villages  to  their 
labor  in  the  fields.  The  crosses  and  polished  domes  of 
churches  sparkled  on  the  horizon.  Here  the  patches  of 
primitive  forest  were  of  larger  growth,  the  trunks  cleaner 
and  straighter,  than  we  had  yet  seen.  Nature  was  half 
conquered,  in  spite  of  the  climate,  and,  for  the  first  time 
since  leaving  St.  Petersburg,  wore  a  habitable  aspect.  I 
recognized  some  of  the  features  of  Russian  country-life 
which  Puschkin  describes  so  charmingly  in  his  poem  of 
"  Eugene  Onagin." 

The  agricultural  development  of  Russia  has  been  greatly 
retarded  by  the  indifference  of  the  nobility,  whose  vast 
estates  comprise  the  best  land  of  the  empire,  in  those  prov 
inces  where  improvements  might  be  most  easily  intro 
duced.  Although  a  large  portion  of  the  noble  families 
pass  their  summers  in  the  country,  they  use  the  season  as 
a  period  of  physical  and  pecuniary  recuperation  from  the 
dissipations  of  the  past,  and  preparation  for  those  of  the 
coming  winter.  Their  possessions  are  so  large  (those  of 
Count  Scheremetieff,  for  instance,  contain  one  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  inhabitants)  that  they  push  each  other  too 
far  apart  for  social  intercourse  ;  and  they  consequently  live 
en  deshabille,  careless  of  the  great  national  interests  in  their 
hands.  There  is  a  class  of  our  Southern  planters  which 
seems  to  have  adopted  a  very  similar  mode  of  life  —  fami 
lies  which  shabbily  starve  for  ten  months,  in  order  to  make 
a  lordly  show  at  "  the  Springs  "  for  the  other  two.  A  most 

accomplished  Russian   lady,  the  Princess  D ,  said  to 

me,  —  "  The  want  of  an  active,  intelligent  country  society 
is  our  greatest  misfortune.  Our  estates  thus  become  a  sort 
of  exile.  The  few,  here  and  there,  who  try  to  improve  the 
condition  of  the  people,  through  the  improvement  of  the 
soil,  are  not  supported  by  their  neighbors,  and  lose  heart. 
The  more  we  gain  in  the  life  of  the  capital,  the  more  we 
are  oppressed  by  the  solitude  and  stagnation  of  the  life  of 
the  country." 


64  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

This  open,  cheerful  region  continued  through  the  morn 
ing.  The  railroad  was  still  a  novelty;  and  the  peasants 
everywhere  dropped  their  scythes  and  shovels  to  see  the 
train  pass.  Some  bowed  with  the  profoundest  gravity- 
They  were  a  fine,  healthy,  strapping  race  of  men,  only  of 
medium  height,  but  admirably  developed  in  chest  and 
limbs,  and  with  shrewd,  intelligent  faces.  Content,  not  stu 
pidity,  is  the  cause  of  their  stationary  condition.  They 
are  not  yet  a  people,  but  the  germ  of  one,  and,  as  such, 
present  a  grand  field  for  anthropological  studies. 

Towards  noon  the  road  began  to  descend,  by  easy 
grades,  from  the  fair,  rolling  uplands  into  a  lower  and 
wilder  region.  When  the  train  stopped,  women  and  chil 
dren  whose  swarthy  skin  and  black  eyes  betrayed  a  mix 
ture  of  Tartar  blood,  made  their  appearance,  with  wooden 
bowls  of  cherries  and  huckleberries  for  sale.  These  bowls 
were  neatly  carved  and  painted.  They  were  evidently  held 
in  high  value  ;  for  I  had  great  difficulty  in  purchasing  one. 
We  moved  slowly,  on  account  of  the  many  skeleton 
bridges ;  but  presently  a  long,  blue  ridge,  which  for  an 
hour  past  had  followed  us  in  the  southeast,  began  to  curve 
around  to  our  front.  I  now  knew  that  it  must  mark  the 
course  of  the  Oka  River,  and  that  we  were  approaching 
Nijni-Novgorod. 

We  soon  saw  the  river  itself;  then  houses  and  gardens 
scattered  along  the  slope  of  the  hill ;  then  clusters  of 
sparkling  domes  on  the  summit ;  then  a  stately,  white- 
walled  citadel ;  and  the  end  of  the  blue  ridge  slanted  down 
in  an  even  line  to  the  Volga.  We  were  three  hundred  miles 
from  Moscow,  on  the  direct  road  to  Siberia. 

The  city  being  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Oka,  the  rail 
road  terminates  at  the  Fair,  which  is  a  separate  city,  oc 
cupying  the  triangular  level  between  the  two  rivers.  Our 
approach  to  it  was  first  announced  by  heaps  of  cotton- 
bales,  bound  in  striped  camel's-hair  cloth,  which  had  found 
their  way  hither  from  the  distant  valleys  of  Turkestan  and 


BETWEEN   EUROPE    AND   ASIA.  65 

the  warm  plains  of  Bukharia.  Nearly  fifty  thousand  camels 
are  employed  in  the  transportation  of  this  staple  across 
the  deserts  of  the  Aral  to  Orenburg,  a  distance  of  a 
thousand  miles.  The  increase  of  price  had  doubled  the 
production  since  the  previous  year,  and  the  amount  which 
now  reaches  the  factories  of  Russia  through  this  channel 
cannot  be  less  than  seventy-five  thousand  bales.  The  ad 
vance  of  modern  civilization  has  so  intertwined  the  interests 
of  all  zones  and  races,  that  a  civil  war  in  the  United  States 
affects  the  industry  of  Central  Asia ! 

Next  to  these  cotton-bales  which,  to  us,  silently  pro 
claimed  the  downfall  of  that  arrogant  monopoly  which  has 
caused  all  our  present  woe,  came  the  representatives  of 
those  who  produced  them.  Groups  of  picturesque  Asians 
—  Bashkirs,  Persians,  Bukharians,  and  Uzbeks  —  appeared 
on  either  side,  staring  impassively  at  the  wonderful  appa 
rition.  Though  there  was  sand  under  their  feet,  they 
seemed  out  of  place  in  the  sharp  north-wind  and  among 
the  hills  of  fir  and  pine. 

The  train  stopped  :  we  had  reached  the  station.  As  I 
stepped  upon  the  platform.  I  saw,  over  the  level  lines  of 
copper  roofs,  the  dragon-like  pinnacles  of  Chinese  build 
ings,  and  the  white  minaret  of  a  mosque.  Here  was  the 
certainty  of  a  picturesque  interest  to  balance  the  uncer 
tainty  of  our  situation.  We  had  been  unable  to  engage 
quarters  in  advance :  there  were  two  hundred  thousand 
strangers  before  us,  in  a  city  the  normal  population  of 
which  is  barely  forty  thousand ;  and  four  of  our  party  were 
ladies.  The  Envoy,  indeed,  might  claim  the  Governor's 
hospitality  ;  but  our  visit  was  to  be  so  brief  that  we  had 
no  time  to  expend  on  ceremonies,  and  preferred  rambling 
at  will  through  the  teeming  bazaars  to  being  led  about 
under  the  charge  of  an  official  escort. 

A  friend  at  Moscow,  however,  had  considerately  tele 
graphed  in  our  behalf  to  a  French  resident  of  Nijni,  and 
the  latter  gentleman  met  us  at  the  station.  lie  could  give 


66  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

but  slight  hope  of  quarters  for  the  night,  but  generously 
offered  us  his  services.  Droshkies  were  engaged  to  convey 
us  to  the  old  city,  on  the  hill  beyond  the  Oka  ;  and,  crowded 
two  by  two  into  the  shabby  little  vehicles,  we  set  forth.  The 
sand  was  knee-deep,  and  the  first  thing  that  happened  was 
the  stoppage  of  our  procession  by  the  tumbling  down  of  the 
several  horses.  They  were  righted  with  the  help  of  some 
obliging  spectators ;  and  with  infinite  labor  we  worked 
through  this  strip  of  desert  into  a  region  of  mud,  with  a 
hard,  stony  bottom  somewhere  between  us  and  the  earth's 
centre.  The  street  we  entered,  though  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  Fair,  resembled  Broadway  on  a  sensation-day.  It  was 
choked  with  a  crowd,  composed  of  the  sweepings  of  Europe 
and  Asia.  Our  horses  thrust  their  heads  between  the  shoul 
ders  of  Christians,  Jews,  Moslems,  and  Pagans,  slowly  shov 
ing  their  way  towards  the  floating  bridge,  which  was  a  jam 
of  vehicles  from  end  to  end.  At  the  corners  of  the  streets, 
the  wiry  Don  Cossacks,  in  their  dashing  blue  uniforms  and 
caps  of  black  lamb's-wool,  regulated,  as  best  they  could, 
the  movements  of  the  multitude.  It  was  curious  to  notice 
how  they,  and  their  small,  well-knit  horses,  —  the  equine 
counterparts  of  themselves,  —  controlled  the  fierce,  fiery 
life  which  flashed  from  every  limb  and  feature,  and  did 
their  duty  with  wonderful  patience  and  gentleness.  They 
seemed  so  many  spirits  of  Disorder  tamed  to  the  service 
of  Order. 

It  was  nearly  half  an  hour  before  we  reached  the  other 
end  of  the  bridge,  and  struck  the  superb  inclined  highway 
which  leads  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  We  were  unwashed 
and  hungry ;  and  neither  the  tumult  of  the  lower  town,  nor 
the  view  of  the  Volga,  crowded  with  vessels  of  all  descrip 
tions,  had  power  to  detain  us.  Our  brave  little  horses  bent 
themselves  to  the  task ;  for  task  it  really  was,  —  the  road 
rising  between  three  and  four  hundred  feet  in  less  than  half 
a  mile.  Advantage  has  been  taken  of  a  slight  natural  ra 
vine,  formed  by  a  short,  curving  spur  of  the  hill,  which 


BETWEEN   EUROPE   AND   ASIA.  67 

encloses  a  pocket  of  the  greenest  and  richest  foliage  —  a 
bit  of  unsuspected  beauty,  quite  invisible  from  the  other 
side  of  the  river.  Then,  in  order  to  reach  the  level  of  the 
Kremlin,  the  road  is  led  through  an  artificial  gap,  a  hundred 
feet  in  depth,  to  the  open  square  in  the  centre  of  the  city. 

Here,  all  was  silent  and  deserted.  There  were  broad, 
well-paved  streets,  substantial  houses,  the  square  towers 
and  crenelated  walls  of  the  Old  Kremlin,  and  the  glittering 
cupolas  of  twenty-six  churches  before  us,  and  a  lack  of 
population  which  contrasted  amazingly  with  the  whirlpool 
of  life  below.  Monsieur  D.,  our  new,  but  most  faithful 
friend,  took  us  to  the  hotel,  every  corner  and  cranny  of 
which  was  occupied.  There  was  a  possibility  of  breakfast 
only,  and  water  was  obtained  with  great  exertion.  While 
'we  were  lazily  enjoying  a  tolerable  meal,  Monsieur  D.  was 
bestirring  himself  in  all  quarters,  and  came  back  to  us  ra 
diant  with  luck.  He  had  found  four  rooms  in  a  neighboring 
street ;  and  truly,  if  one  were  to  believe  De  Custine  or 
Dumas,  such  rooms  are  impossible  in  Russia.  Charmingly 
clean,  elegantly  furnished,  with  sofas  of  green  leather  and 
beds  of  purest  linen,  they  would  have  satisfied  the  severe 
eye  of  an  English  housekeeper.  We  thanked  both  our 
good  friend  and  St.  Macarius  (who  presides  over  the  Fair) 
for  this  fortune,  took  possession,  and  then  hired  fresh  drosh- 
kies  to  descend  the  hill. 

On  emerging  from  the  ravine,  we  obtained  a  bird's-eye 
view  of  the  whole  scene.  The  waters  of  both  rivers,  near 
at  hand,  were  scarcely  visible  through  the  shipping  which 
covered  them.  Vessels  from  the  Neva,  the  Caspian,  and 
the  rivers  of  the  Ural,  were  here  congregated ;  and  they 
alone  represented  a  floating  population  of  between  thirty 
and  forty  thousand  souls.  The  Fair,  from  this  point,  re 
sembled  an  immense  flat  city,  —  the  streets  of  booths  being 
of  a  uniform  height,  —  out  of  which  rose  the  great  Greek 
church,  the  Tartar  mosque,  and  the  curious  Chinese  roofs. 
It  was  a  vast,  dark,  humming  plain,  vanishing  towards  the 


68  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

west  and  northwest  in  clouds  of  sand.  By  this  time  there 
was  a  lull  in  the  business,  and  we  made  our  way  to  the 
central  bazaar  with  less  trouble  than  we  had  anticipated. 
It  is  useless  to  attempt  an  enumeration  of  the  wares  ex 
posed  for  sale :  they  embraced  everything  grown,  trapped, 
dug,  or  manufactured  between  Ireland  and  Japan.  We 
sought,  of  course,  the  Asiatic  elements,  which  first  met  us 
in  the  shape  of  melons  from  Astrakhan,  and  grapes  from  the 
southern  slopes  of  the  Caucasus.  Then  came  wondrous 
stuffs  from  the  looms  of  Turkestan  and  Cashmere,  tur 
quoises  from  the  Upper  Oxus,  and  glittering  strings  of  Si 
berian  topaz  and  amethyst,  side  by  side  with  Nuremberg 
toys,  Lyons  silks,  and  Sheffield  cutlery.  About  one  third 
of  the  population  of  the  Fair  was  of  Asiatic  blood,  embra 
cing  representatives  from  almost  every  tribe  north  and  west 
of  the  Himalayas. 

This  temporary  city,  which  exists  during  only  two  months 
of  the  year,  contained  two  hundred  thousand  inhabitants 
at  the  time  of  our  visit.  During  the  remaining  ten  months 

O  ^ 

it  is  utterly  depopulated,  the^bazaars  are  closed,  and  chains 
are  drawn  across  the  streets  to  prevent  the  passage  of  ve 
hicles.  A  single  statement  will  give  an  idea  of  its  extent : 
the  combined  length  of  the  streets  is  twenty-five  miles. 
The  Great  Bazaar  is  substantially  built  of  stone,  after  the 
manner  of  those  in  Constantinople,  except  that  it  incloses 
an  open  court,  where  a  Government  band  performs  every 
afternoon.  Here  the  finer  wares  are  displayed,  and  the 
shadowed  air  under  the  vaulted  roofs  is  a  very  kaleidoscope 
for  shifting  color  and  sparkle.  Tea,  cotton,  leather,  wool, 
and  the  other  heavier  and  coarser  commodities,  have  their 
separate  streets  and  quarters.  The  several  nationalities 
are  similarly  divided,  to  some  extent ;  but  the  stranger,  of 
course,  prefers  to  see  them  jostling  together  in  the  streets, 
—  a  Babel  not  only  of  tongues,  but  of  feature,  character, 
and  costume. 

Our  ladies  were  eager  to  inspect  the  stock  of  jewelry 


BETWEEN  EUROPE  AND   ASIA.  69 

especially  those  heaps  of  exquisite  color  with  which  the 
Mohammedans  very  logically  load  the  trees  of  Paradise ; 
for  they  resemble  fruit  in  a  glorified  state  of  existence. 
One  can  imagine  virtuous  grapes  promoted  to  amethysts, 
blueberries  to  turquoises,  cherries  to  rubies,  and  green 
gages  to  aqua-marine.  These,  the  secondary  jewels  (with 
the  exception  of  the  ruby),  are  brought  in  great  quantities 
from  Siberia,  but  most  of  them  are  marred  by  slight  Haws 
or  other  imperfections,  so  that  their  cheapness  is  more  ap 
parent  than  real.  An  amethyst  an  inch  long,  throwing  the 
most  delicious  purple  light  from  its  hundreds  of  facets, 
quite  takes  you  captive,  and  you  put  your  hand  in  your 
pocket  for  the  fifteen  dollars  which  shall  make  you  its  pos 
sessor  ;  but  a  closer  inspection  is  sure  to  show  you  either 
a  broad  transverse  flaw,  j or  a  spot  where  the  color  fades 
into  transparency.  The  white  topaz,  known  as  the  "  Sibe 
rian  diamond,"  is  generally  flawless,  and  the  purest  speci 
mens  are  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  the  genuine 
brilliant.  A  necklace  of  these,  varying  from  a  half  to  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  may  be  had  for  about 
twenty-five  dollars.  There  were  also  golden  and  smoky 
topaz  and  beryl,  in  great  profusion. 

A  princely  Bashkir  drew  us  to  his  booth,  first  by  his 
beauty  and  then  by  his  noble  manners.  He  was  the  very 
incarnation  of  Boker's  "  Prince  Adeb." 

"  The  girls  of  Damar  paused  to  see  me  pass, 
I  walking  in  my  rags,  yet  beautiful. 
One  maiden  said,  '  He  has  a  prince's  air  !  ' 
I  am  a  prince  ;  the  air  was  all  my  own." 

This  Bashkir,  however,  was  not  in  rags,  he  was  elegantly 
attired.  His  silken  vest  was  bound  with  a  girdle  of  gold 
thread  studded  with  jewels,  and  over  it  he  wore  a  caftan, 
with  wide  sleeves,  of  the  finest  dark-blue  cloth.  The  round 
cap  of  black  lamb's-wool  became  his  handsome  head.  His 
complexion  was  pale  olive,  through  which  the  red  of  his 
cheeks  shone,  in  the  words  of  some  oriental  poem,  "  like 


70  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

a  rose-leaf  through  oil ; "  and  his  eyes,  in  their  dark  fire 
were  more  lustrous  than  smoky  topaz.  His  voice  was  mel 
low  and  musical,  and  his  every  movement  and  gesture  a 
new  exhibition  of  human  grace.  Among  thousands,  yea, 
tens  of  thousands,  of  handsome  men,  he  stood  preeminent. 

As  our  acquaintance  ripened,  he  drew  a  pocket-book 
from  his  bosom,  and  showed  us  his  choicest  treasures  :  tur 
quoises,  bits  of  wonderful  blue  heavenly  forget-me-nots  ;  a 
jacinth,  burning  like  a  live  coal,  in  scarlet  light ;  and 
lastly,  a  perfect  ruby,  which  no  sum  less  than  twenty-five 
hundred  dollars  could  purchase.  From  him  we  learned 
the  curious  fluctuations  of  fashion  in  regard  to  jewels. 
Turquoises  were  just  then  in  the  ascendant;  and  one  of 
the  proper  tint,  the  size  of  a  parsnip-seed,  could  not  be  had 
for  a  hundred  dollars,  the  full  value  of  a  diamond  of  equal 
size.  Amethysts  of  a  deep  plum-color,  though  less  beauti 
ful  than  the  next  paler  shade,  command  very  high  prices  ; 
while  jacinth,  beryl,  and  aqua-marine  —  stones  of  exquisite 
hue  and  lustre  —  are  cheap.  But  then,  in  this  depart 
ment,  as  in  all  others,  Fashion  and  Beauty  are  not  conver 
tible  terms. 

In  the  next  booth  there  were  two  Persians,  who  unfolded 
before  our  eyes  some  of  their  marvelous  shawls,  where  you 
forget  the  barbaric  pattern  in  the  exquisite  fineness  of  the 
material  and  the  triumphant  harmony  of  the  colors.  Scar 
let  with  palm-leaf  border,  —  blue  clasped  by  golden  bronze, 
picked  out  with  red,  —  browns,  greens,  and  crimsons  strug 
gling  for  the  mastery  in  a  war  of  tints,  —  how  should  we 
choose  between  them  ?  Alas  !  we  were  not  able  to  choose ; 
they  were  a  thousand  dollars  apiece  !  But  the  Persians 
still  went  on  unfolding,  taking  our  admiration  in  pay  for 
their  trouble,  and  seeming  even,  by  their  pleasant  smiles, 
to  consider  themselves  well  paid.  "When  we  came  to  the 
booths  of  European  merchants,  we  were  swiftly  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  civilization,  in  following  the  sun  west 
ward,  loses  its  grace  in  proportion  as  it  advances.  The 


BETWEEN  EUROPE   AND   ASIA.  71 

gentle  dignity,  the  serene  patience,  the  soft,  fraternal, 
affectionate  demeanor  of  our  Asiatic  brethren  vanished 
utterly  when  we  encountered  French  and  German  sales 
men  ;  and  yet  these  latter  would  have  seemed  gracious 
and  courteous,  had  there  been  a  few  Yankee  dealers 
beyond  them.  The  fourth  or  fifth  century,  which  still 
exists  in  Central  Asia,  was  undoubtedly,  in  this  particular, 
superior  to  the  nineteenth.  No  gentleman,  since  his  time, 
I  suspect,  has  equaled  Adam. 

Among  these  Asiatics  Mr.  Buckle  would  have  some  dif 
ficulty  in  maintaining  his  favorite  postulate,  that  tolerance 
is  the  result  of  progressive  intelligence.  It  is  also  the 
result  of  courtesy,  as  we  may  occasionally  see  in  well- 
bred  persons  of  limited  intellect.  Such,  undoubtedly, 
is  the  basis  of  that  tolerance  which  no  one  who  has  had 
much  personal  intercourse  with  the  Semitic  races  can  have 
failed  to  experience.  The  days  of  the  sword  and  fagot  are 
past;  but  it  was  reserved  for  Christians  to  employ  them 
in  the  name  of  religion  alone.  Local  or  political  jealous 
ies  are  at  the  bottom  of  those  troubles  which  still  occur 
from  time  to  time  in  Turkey  ;  the  traveller  hears  no  insult 
ing  epithet,  and  the  green-turbaned  Imam  will  receive 
him  as  kindly  and  courteously  as  the  skeptical  Bey  edu 
cated  in  Paris.  I  have  never  been  so  aggressively  assailed, 
on  religious  grounds,  as  at  home,  —  never  so  coarsely  and 
insultingly  treated,  on  account  of  a  presumed  difference 
of  opinion,  as  by  those  who  claim  descent  from  the  Cava 
liers.  The  bitter  fierceness  of  some  of  our  leading 

c> 

reformers  is  overlooked  by  their  followers,  because  it 
springs  from  "  earnest  conviction "  ;  but  in  the  Orient 
intensest  faith  coexists  with  the  most  gracious  and  gentle 
manners. 

Be  not  impatient,  beloved  reader  ;  for  this  digression 
brings  me  naturally  to  the  next  thing  we  saw  at  Novgorod. 
As  we  issued  from  the  bazaar,  the  sunlit  minaret  greeted 
us  through  whirling  dust  and  rising  vapor,  and  I  fancied  I 


72  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

could  hear  the  muezzin's  musical  cry.  It  was  about  time 
for  the  asser  prayer.  Droshkies  were  found,  and  we  rode 
slowly  through  the  long,  low  warehouses  of  "  caravan  tea  " 
and  Mongolian  wool  to  the  mound  near  the  Tartar  encamp 
ment.  The  mosque  was  a  plain,  white,  octagonal  building, 
conspicuous  only  through  its  position.  The  turbaned  faith 
ful  were  already  gathering ;  and  we  entered,  and  walked 
up  the  steps  among  them,  without  encountering  an  un 
friendly  glance.  At  the  door  stood  two  Cossack  soldiers, 
specially  placed  there  to  prevent  the  worshippers  from 
being  insulted  by  curious  Christians.  (Those  who  have 
witnessed  the  wanton  profanation  of  mosques  in  India  by 
the  English  officers  will  please  notice  this  fact.)  If  we 
had  not  put  off  our  shoes  before  entering  the  hall  of  wor 
ship,  the  Cossacks  would  have  performed  that  operation 
for  us. 

I  am  happy  to  say  that  none  of  our  party  lacked  a 
proper  reverence  for  devotion,  though  it  was  offered  through 
the  channels  of  an  alien  creed.  The  ladies  left  their 
gaiters  beside  our  boots,  and  we  all  stood  in  our  stockings 
on  the  matting,  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the  kneeling  crowd. 
The  priest  occupied  a  low  dais  in  front,  but  he  simply  led 
the  prayer,  which  was  uttered  by  all.  The  windows  were 
open,  and  the  sun  poured  a  golden  flood  into  the  room. 
Yonder  gleamed  the  Kremlin  of  Novgorod,  yonder  rolled 
the  Volga,  all  around  were  the  dark  forests  of  the  North,  — 
yet  their  faces  were  turned,  and  their  thoughts  went  south 
ward,  to  where  Mecca  sits  among  the  burning  hills,  in  the 
feathery  shade  of  her  palm-trees.  And  the  tongue  oJ' 
Mecca  came  from  their  lips,  "  Allah  !  "  "  Allah  aJchbar  !  "  as. 
the  knee  bent  and  the  forehead  touched  the  floor. 

At  the  second  repetition  of  the  prayers  we  quietly  with 
drew  ;  and  good  Monsieur  D.,  forgetful  of  nothing,  sug 
gested  that  preparations  had  been  made  for  a  dinner  in  the; 
great  cosmopolitan  restaurant.  So  we  drove  back  again 
through  the  Chinese  street,  with  its  red  horned  houses,  tho 


BETWEEN   EUEOPE    AND   ASIA.  73 

roofs  terminating  in  gilded  dragons'  tails,  and,  after  press 
ing  through  an  immense  multitude  enveloped  in  tobacco- 
smoke  and  the  steam  of  tea-urns,  found  ourselves  at  last  in 
a  low  room  with  a  shaky  floor  and  muslin  ceiling.  It  was 
an  exact  copy  of  the  dining-room  of  a  California  hotel. 
If  we  looked  blank  a  moment,  Monsieur  D.'s  smile  reas 
sured  us.  He  had  given  all  the  necessary  orders,  he  said, 
and  would  step  out  and  secure  a  box  in  the  theatre  before 
the  zakouski  was  served.  During  his  absence,  we  looked 
out  of  the  window  on  either  side  upon  surging,  whirling, 
humming  pictures  of  the  Great  Fair,  all  vanishing  in  per 
spectives  of  dust  and  mist 

In  half  an  hour  our  friend  returned,  and  with  him 
entered  the  zakouski.  I  cannot  remember  half  the  appe 
tizing  ingredients  of  which  it  was  composed :  anchovies, 
sardines,  herrings,  capers,  cheese,  caviare,  pate  de  foie, 
pickles,  cherries,  oranges,  and  olives,  were  among  them. 
Instead  of  being  a  prelude  to  dinner,  it  was  almost  a 
dinner  in  itself.  Then,  after  a  Russian  soup,  which  always 
contains  as  much  solid  nutriment  as  meat-biscuit  or  Arc 
tic  pemmican,  came  the  glory  of  the  repast,  a  mighty 
sterlet,  which  was  swimming  in  Volga  water  when  we  took 
our  seats  at  the  table.  This  fish,  the  exclusive  property  of 
Russia,  is,  in  times  of  scarcity,  worth  its  weight  in  silver. 
Its  unapproachable  flavor  is  supposed  to  be  as  evanescent 
as  the  hues  of  a  dying  dolphin.  Frequently,  at  grand  din 
ner-parties,  it  is  carried  around  the  table  in  a  little  tank, 
and  exhibited,  alive,  to  the  guests,  when  their  soup  is 
served,  that  its  freshness,  ten  minutes  afterwards,  may  be 
put  beyond  suspicion.  The  fish  has  the  appearance  of  a 
small,  lean  sturgeon  ;  but  its  flesh  resembles  the  melting 
pulp  of  a  fruit  rather  than  the  fibre  of  its  watery  brethren. 
It  sinks  into  juice  upon  the  tongue,  like  a  perfectly  ripe 
peach.  In  this  quality  no  other  fish  in  the  world  can  ap 
proach  it ;  yet  I  do  not  think  the  flavor  quite  so  fine  as 
that  of  a  brook-trout.  Our  sterlet  was  nearly  two  feet 
long,  and  may  have  cost  twenty  or  thirty  dollars. 


74  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

AVith  it  appeared  an  astonishing  salad,  composed  of 
watermelons,  cantaloupes,  pickled  cherries,  cucumbers,  and 
certain  spicy  herbs.  Its  color  and  odor  were  enticing,  and 
we  had  all  applied  the  test  of  taste  most  satisfactorily 
before  we  detected  the  curious  mixture  of  ingredients. 
After  the  second  course,  —  a  ragout  of  beef,  accompanied 
with  a  rich,  elaborate  sauce,  —  three  heavy  tankards  of 
chased  silver,  holding  two  quarts  apiece,  were  placed  upon 
the  table.  The  first  of  these  contained  kvass,  the  second 
kislischi,  and  the  third  hydromel.  Each  one  of  these  national 
drinks,  when  properly  brewed,  is  very  palatable  and  re 
freshing.  I  found  the  kislischi  nearly  identical  with  the 
ancient  Scandinavian  mead  :  no  doubt  it  dates  from  the 
Varangian  rule  in  Russia.  The  old  custom  of  passing  the 
tankards  around  the  table,  from  mouth  to  mouth,  is  still 
observed,  and  will  not  be  found  objectionable,  even  in  these 
days  of  excessive  delicacy,  when  ladies  and  gentlemen  are 
seated  alternately  at  the  banquet. 

The  Russian  element  of  the  dinner  here  terminated. 
Cutlets  and  roast  fowls  made  their  appearance,  with  bottles 
of  Riidesheimer  and  Lafitte,  followed  by  a  dessert  of  su 
perb  Persian  melons,  from  the  southern  shore  of  the 
Caspian  Sea. 

By  this  time  night  had  fallen,  and  Monsieur  D.  sug 
gested  an  immediate  adjournment  to  the  theatre.  AVhat 
should  be  the  entertainment  ?  Dances  of  almehs,  songs  of 
gypsies,  or  Chinese  jugglers?  One  of  the  Ivans  brought  a 
programme.  It  was  not  difficult  to  decipher  the  word 
"  MAKBET'L  "  and  to  recognize,  further,  in  the  name  of 
"  Ira  Aldridge "  a  distinguished  mulatto  tragedian,  to 
whom  Maryland  has  given  birth  (if  I  am  rightly  informed) 
and  Europe  fame.  AVe  had  often  heard  of  him,  yea,  seen 
his  portrait  in  Germany,  decorated  with  the  orders  con 
ferred  by  half  a  dozen  sovereigns  ;  and  his  presence  here, 
between  Europe  and  Asia,  was  not  the  least  characteristic 
feature  of  the  Fair.  A  mulatto  Macbeth,  in  a  Russian 
theatre,  with  a  Persian  and  Tartar  audience ! 


BETWEEN   EUROPE   AND   ASIA.  75 

On  arriving,  we  were  ushered  into  two  whitewashed 
boxes,  which  had  been  reserved  for  our  party.  The  man 
ager,  having  been  informed  of  the  Envoy's  presence  in 
Nijni-Novgorod,  had  delayed  the  performance  half  an  hour, 
but  the  audience  bore  this  infliction  patiently.  The  building 
was  deep  and  narrow,  with  space  for  about  eight  hundred 
persons,  and  was  filled  from  top  to  bottom.  The  first  act 
was  drawing  to  a  close  as  we  entered.  King  Duncan,  with 
two  or  three  shabby  attendants,  stood  in  the  court-yard  of 
the  castle,  —  the  latter  represented  by  a  handsome  French 
door  on  the  left,  with  a  bit  of  Tartar  wall  beyond,  —  and 
made  his  observations  on  the  "  pleasant  seat  "  of  Macbeth's 
mansion.  lie  spoke  Russian,  of  course.  Lady  Macbeth 
now  appeared,  in  a  silk  dress  of  the  latest  fashion,  ex 
panded  by  the  amplest  of  crinolines.  She  was  passably 
handsome,  and  nothing  could  be  gentler  than  her  face  and 
voice.  She  received  the  royal  party  like  a  well-bred  lady, 
and  they  all  entered  the  French  door  together. 

There  was  no  change  of  scene.  With  slow  step  and 
folded  arms,  Ira  Macbeth  entered  and  commenced  the 
soliloquy,  "  If  it  were  done,"  etc.,  to  our  astonishment,  in 
English  !  He  was  a  dark,  strongly  built  mulatto,  of  about 
fifty,  in  a  fancy  tunic,  and  light  stockings  over  Forrestian 
calves.  His  voice  was  deep  and  powerful ;  and  it  was  very 
evident  that  Edmund  Kean,  once  his  master,  was  also  the 
model  which  he  carefully  followed  in  the  part.  There 
were  the  same  deliberate,  over-distinct  enunciation,  the 
same  prolonged  pauses  and  gradually  performed  gestures, 
as  I  remember  in  imitations  of  Kean's  manner.  Except 
that  the  copy  was  a  little  too  apparent,  Mr.  Aldridge's 
acting  was  really  very  fine.  The  Russians  were  enthusias 
tic  in  their  applause,  though  very  few  of  them,  probably, 
understood  the  language  of  the  part.  The  Oriental  audi 
tors  were  perfectly  impassive,  and  it  was  impossible  to  guess 
how  they  regarded  the  performance. 

The  second  act  was  in  some  respects  the  most  amusing 


76  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

thing  I  ever  saw  upon  the  stage.  In  the  dagger-scene, 
Ira  was,  to  my  mind,  quite  equal,  to  Forrest ;  it  was  impos 
sible  to  deny  him  unusual  dramatic  talent ;  but  his  com 
plexion,  continually  suggesting  Othello,  quite  confounded 
me.  The  amiable  Russian  Lady  Macbeth  was  much  better 
adapted  to  the  part  of  Desdemona  :  all  softness  and  gen 
tleness,  she  smiled  as  she  lifted  her  languishing  eyes,  and 
murmured  in  the  tenderest  accents,  "  Infirm  of  purpose  ! 
give  me  the  dagger !  "  At  least,  I  took  for  granted  that 
these  were  her  words,  for  Macbeth  had  just  said,  "  Look 
on't  again  I  dare  not."  Afterwards,  six  Russian  soldiers, 
in  tan-colored  shirts,  loose  trousers,  and  high  boots,  filed 
in,  followed  by  Macduff  and  Malcolm,  in  the  costume  of 
"Wallenstein's  troopers.  The  dialogue — one  voice  Eng 
lish,  and  all  the  others  Russian  —  proceeded  smoothly 
enough,  but  the  effect  was  like  nothing  which  our  stage 
can  produce.  Nevertheless,  the  audience  was  delighted, 
and  when  the  curtain  fell  there  were  vociferous  cries  of 
"Awa  !  A'ira  !  Aldreetch  !  Aldreetch  !  "  until  the  swarthy 
hero  made  his  appearance  before  the  foot-lights. 

Monsieur  D.  conducted  our  friend  P.  into  the  green 
room,  where  he  was  received  by  Macbeth  in  costume.  He 
found  the  latter  to  be  a  dignified,  imposing  personage,  who 
carried  his  tragic  chest-tones  into  ordinary  conversation. 
On  being  informed  by  P.  that  the  American  minister  was 
present,  he  asked,  — 

"  Of  what  persuasion  ?  " 

P.  hastened  to  set  him  right,  and  Ira  then  remarked,  in 
his  gravest  tone,  —  "I  shall  have  the  honor  of  waiting 
upon  him  to-morrow  morning  ; "  which,  however,  he  failed 
to  do. 

This  son  of  the  South,  no  doubt,  came  legitimately  (or, 
at  least,  naturally)  by  his  dignity.  His  career,  for  a  man 
of  his  blood  and  antecedents,  has  been  wonderfully  success 
ful,  and  is  justly  due,  I  am  convinced,  since  I  have  seen 
him,  to  his  histrionic  talents.  Both  black  and  yellow  skins 


BETWEEN  EUROPE  AND  ASIA.  77 

are  sufficiently  rare  in  Europe  to  excite  a  particular  in 
terest  in  those  who  wear  them  ;  and  I  had  surmised,  up  to 
this  time,  that  much  of  his  popularity  might  be  owing  to 
his  color.  Rut  he  certainly  deserves  an  honorable  place 
among  tragedians  of  the  second  rank. 

&  O 

We  left  the  theatre  at  the  close  of  the  third  act,  and 
crossed  the  river  to  our  quarters  .on  the  hill.  A  chill  mist 
hung  over  the  Fair,  but  the  lamps  still  burned,  the  streets 
were  thronged,  and  the  Don  Cossacks  kept  patient  guard 
at  every  corner.  The  night  went  by  like  one  unconscious 
minute,  in  beds  unmolested  by  bug  or  flea ;  and  when  I 
arose,  thoroughly  refreshed,  I  involuntarily  called  to  mind 
a  frightful  chapter  in  De  Custine's  "  Russia,"  describing  the 
prevalence  of  an  insect  which  he  calls  the  persica,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Volga.  He  was  obliged  to  sleep  on  a  table, 
the  legs  whereof  were  placed  in  basins  of  water,  to  escape 
their  attacks.  I  made  many  inquiries  about  these  terrible 
persicas,  and  finally  discovered  that  they  were  neither  more 
nor  less  than  —  cockroaches  !  —  called  Prossald  (Prus 
sians)  by  the  Russians,  as  they  are  sometimes  called  Schwa- 
ben  (Suabians)  by  the  Germans.  Possibly  they  may  be 
found  in  the  huts  of  the  serfs,  but  they  are  rare  in  decent 
houses. 

We  devoted  the  first  sunny  hours  of  the  morning  to  a  visit 
to  the  citadel  and  a  walk  around  the  crest  of  the  hill.  On 
the  highest  point,  just  over  the  junction  of  the  two  rivers, 
there  is  a  commemorative  column  to  Minim,  the  patriotic 
butcher  of  Novgorod,  but  for  whose  eloquence,  in  the  year 
1610,  the  Russian  might  possibly  now  be  the  Polish  Em 
pire.  Vladislas,  son  of  Sigismund  of  Poland,  had  been 
called  to  the  throne  by  the  boyards,  and  already  reigned  in 
Moscow,  when  Minim  appealed  to  the  national  spirit,  per 
suaded  General  Pojarski  to  head  an  anti-Polish  movement, 
which  was  successful,  and  thus  cleared  the  way  for  the 
election  of  Michael  Romanoff,  the  first  sovereign  of  the 
present  dynasty.  Minim  is  therefore  one  of  the  historic 
names  of  Russia. 


78  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

When  I  stood  beside  his  monument,  and  the  finest  land 
scape  of  European  Russia  was  suddenly  unrolled  before 
my  eyes,  I  could  believe  the  tradition  of  his  eloquence, 
for  here  was  its  inspiration.  Thirty  or  forty  miles  away 
stretched  the  rolling  swells  of  forest  and  grain-land,  fading 
into  dimmest  blue  to  the  westward  and  northward,  dotted 
with  villages  and  sparkling  domes,  and  divided  by  shining- 
reaches  of  the  Volga.  It  was  truly  a  superb  and  imposing 
view,  changing  with  each  spur  of  the  hill  as  we  made  the 
circuit  of  the  citadel.  Eastward,  the  country  rose  into 
dark,  wooded  hills,  between  which  the  river  forced  its  way 
in  a  narrower  and  swifter  channel,  until  it  disappeared 
behind  a  purple  headland,  hastening  southward  to  find  a 
warmer  home  in  the  unfrozen  Caspian.  By  embarking  on 
the  steamers  anchored  below  us,  we  might  have  reached 
Perm,  among  the  Ural  Mountains,  or  Astrakhan,  in  less 
than  a  week  ;  while  a  trip  of  ten  days  would  have  taken  us 
past  the  Caucasus,  even  to  the  base  of  Ararat  or  Demavend. 
Such  are  the  splendid  possibilities  of  travel  in  these  days. 

The  Envoy,  who  visited  Europe  for  the  first  time,  de 
clared  that  this  panorama  from  the  hill  of  Novgorod  was 
one  of  the  finest  things  he  had  seen.  There  could,  truly, 
be  no  better  preparation  to  enjoy  it  than  fifteen  hundred 
miles  of  nearly  unbroken  level,  after  leaving  the  Russian 
frontier ;  but  I  think  it  would  be  a  noted  landscape  any 
where.  Why  it  is  not  more  widely  celebrated  I  cannot 
guess.  The  only  person  in  Russia  whom  I  heard  speak  of 
it  with  genuine  enthusiasm  was  Alexander  II. 

Two  hours  upon  the  breezy  parapet,  beside  the  old 
Tartar  walls,  were  all  too  little ;  but  the  droshkies  waited 
in  the  river-street  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  us ;  our  return 
to  Moscow  was  ordered  for  the  afternoon ;  there  were  ame 
thysts  and  Persian  silks  yet  to  be  bought,  and  so  we  sighed 
farewell  to  an  enjoyment  rare  in  Russia,  and  descended  the 
steep  foot-path. 

P.  and  I  left  the  rest  of  the  party  at  the  booth  of  the 


BETWEEN  EUROPE   AND   ASIA.  79 

handsome  Bashkir,  and  set  out  upon  a  special  mission  to 
the  Tartar  camp.  I  had  ascertained  that  the  national 
beverage  of  Central  Asia  might  be  found  there,  —  the  gen 
uine  koumiss  or  fermented  milk  of  the  mares  of  the  Uralian 
steppes.  Having  drunk  palm-wine  in  India,  samshoo  in 
China,  sdki  in  Japan,  pulque  in  Mexico,  bouza  in  Egypt, 
mead  in  Scandinavia,  ale  in  England,  bock-bier  in  Germany, 
mastic  in  Greece,  calabogus  in  Newfoundland,  and  —  soda- 
water  in  the  United  States,  I  desired  to  complete  the  bibu 
lous  cosmos,  in  which  koumiss  was  still  lacking.  My  friend 
did  not  share  my  curiosity,  but  was  ready  for  an  adventure, 
which  our  search  for  mare's  milk  seemed  to  promise. 

Beyond  the  mosques  we  found  the  Uzbeks  and  Kirghiz, 
. —  some  in  tents,  some  in  rough  shanties  of  boards.  But 
they  were  without  koumiss :  they  had  had  it,  and  showed 
us  some  empty  kegs,  in  evidence  of  the  fact.  I  fancied  a 
gleam  of  diversion  stole  over  their  grave,  swarthy  faces,  as 
they  listened  to  our  eager  inquiries  in  broken  Russian. 
Finally  we  came  into  an  extemporized  village,  where  some 
women,  unveiled  and  ugly,  advised  us  to  apply  to  the 
traders  in  the  khan,  or  caravanserai.  This  was  a  great 
barn-like  building,  two  stories  high,  with  broken  staircases 
and  creaking  floors.  A  corridor  ran  the  whole  length  of 

&  O 

the  second  floor,  with  some  twenty  or  thirty  doors  opening 
into  it  from  the  separate  rooms  of  the  traders.  We  ac 
costed  the  first  Tartar  whom  we  met,  and  he  promised, 
with  great  readiness,  to  procure  us  what  we  wanted.  He 
ushered  us  into  his  room,  cleared  away  a  pile  of  bags, 
saddles,  camel-trappings,  and  other  tokens  of  a  nomadic 
life,  and  revealed  a  low  divan  covered  with  a  ragged  carpet. 
On  a  sack  of  barley  sat  his  father,  a  blind  graybeard, 
nearly  eighty  years  old.  On  our  way  through  the  camp  I 
had  noticed  that  the  Tartars  saluted  each  other  with  the 
Arabic,  "  Salaam  aleikoom  !  "  and  I  therefore  greeted  the 
old  man  with  the  familiar  words.  He  lifted  his  head  :  his 
face  brightened,  and  he  immediately  answered,  "Aleikoom 
salaam,  my  son  !  " 


80  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

"  Do  you  speak  Arabic  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  A  little  ;  I  have  forgotten  it,"  said  he.  «  But  thine  is 
a  new  voice.  Of  what  tribe  art  thou  ?  " 

"  A  tribe  far  away,  beyond  Bagdad  and  Syria,"  I  an 
swered. 

"  It  is  the  tribe  of  Damascus.  I  know  it  now,  my  son. 
I  have  heard  the  voice,  many,  many  years  ago." 

The  withered  old  face  looked  so  bright,  as  some  pleas 
ant  memory  shone  through  it,  that  I  did  not  undeceive  the 
man.  His  son  came  in  with  a  glass,  pulled  a  keg  from 
under  a  pile  of  coarse  caftans,  and  drew  out  the  wooden 
peg.  A  gray  liquid,  with  an  odor  at  once  sour  and  pun 
gent,  spirted  into  the  glass,  which  he  presently  handed  to 
me,  filled  to  the  brim.  In  such  cases  no  hesitation  is  per 
mitted.  I  thought  of  home  and  family,  set  the  glass  to  my 
lips,  and  emptied  it  before  the  flavor  made  itself  clearly 
manifest  to  my  palate. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  like  ?  "  asked  my  friend,  who  curiously 
awaited  the  result  of  the  experiment. 

"  Peculiar,"  I  answered,  with  preternatural  calmness,  — 
"  peculiar,  but  not  unpleasant." 

The  glass  was  filled  a  second  time ;  and  P.,  not  to  be 
behindhand,  emptied  it  at  a  draught.  Then  he  turned  to 
me  with  tears  (not  of  delight)  in  his  eyes,  swallowed  very 
hard  two  or  three  times,  suppressed  a  convulsive  shudder, 
and  finally  remarked,  with  the  air  of  a  martyr,  "  Very 
curious,  indeed  !  " 

"  Will  your  Excellencies  have  some  more  ?  "  said  the 
friendly  Tartar. 

"  Not  before  breakfast,  if  you  please,"  I  answered ; 
"  your  koumiss  is  excellent,  however,  and  we  will  take  a 
bottle  with  us,"  —  which  we  did,  in  order  to  satisfy  the 
possible  curiosity  of  the  ladies.  I  may  here  declare  that 
the  bottle  was  never  emptied. 

The  taste  was  that  of  aged  buttermilk  mixed  with  am 
monia.  We  could  detect  no  flavor  of  alcohol,  yet  were 


BETWEEN   EUROPE  AND  ASIA.  81 

conscious  of  a  light  exhilaration  from  the  small  quantity 
we  drank.  The  beverage  is  said,  indeed,  to  be  very  in 
toxicating.  Some  German  physician  has  established  a 
"  koumiss-cure  "  at  Piatigorsk,  at  the  northern  base  of  the 
Caucasus,  and  invites  invalids  of  certain  kinds  to  come 
and  be  healed  by  its  agency.  I  do  not  expect  to  be  one  of 
the  number. 

There  still  remained  a  peculiar  feature  of  the  Fair, 
which  I  had  not  yet  seen.  This  is  the  subterranean  net 
work  of  sewerage,  which  reproduces,  in  massive  masonry, 
the  streets  on  the  surface.  Without  it,  the  annual  city  of 
two  months  would  become  uninhabitable.  The  peninsula 
between  the  two  rivers  being  low  and  marshy,  —  frequently 
overflowed  during  the  spring  freshets,  —  pestilence  would 
soon  be  bred  from  the  immense  concourse  of  people :  hence 
a  system  of  cloaca,  almost  rivaling  those  of  ancient  Rome. 
At  each  street-corner  there  are  wells  containing  spiral 
staircases,  by  which  one  can  descend  to  the  spacious  sub 
terranean  passages,  and  there  walk  for  miles  under  arches 
of  hewn  stone,  lighted  and  aired  by  shafts  at  regular  inter 
vals.  In  St.  Petersburg  you  are  told  that  more  than  half 
the  cost  of  the  city  is  under  the  surface  of  the  earth  ;  at 
Nijni-Novgorod  the  statement  is  certainly  true.  Peter  the 
vireat  at  one  time  designed  establishing  his  capital  here. 
Could  he  have  foreseen  the  existence  of  railroads,  he  would 
certainly  have  done  so.  Nijni-Novgorod  is  now  nearer  to 
Berlin  than  the  Russian  frontier  was  fifty  years  ago.  St. 
Petersburg  is  an  accidental  city ;  Nature  and  the  destiny 
of  the  empire  are  both  opposed  to  its  existence  ;  and  a  time 
will  come  when  its  long  lines  of  palaces  shall  be  deserted 
for  some  new  capital,  in  a  locality  at  once  more  southern 
and  more  central. 

Another  walk  through  the  streets  of  the  Fair  enabled 
me  to  analyze  the  first  confused  impression,  and  separate 
the  motley  throng  of  life  into  its  several  elements.  I  sha;. 
not  attempt,  however,  to  catch  and  paint  its  ever-changing. 


02  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

fluctuating  character.  Our  limited  visit  allowed  us  to  see 
only  the  more  central  and  crowded  streets.  Outside  of 
these,  for  miles,  extend  suburbs  of  iron,  of  furs,  wool,  and 
other  coarser  products,  brought  together  from  the  Ural, 
from  the  forests  towards  the  Polar  Ocean,  and  from  the 
vast  extent  of  Siberia.  Here,  from  morning  till  night,  the 
beloved  kvass  flows  in  rivers,  the  strong  stream  of  shchee 
(cabbage-soup)  sends  up  its  perpetual  incense,  and  the 
samovar  of  cheap  tea  is  never  empty.  Here,  although  im 
portant  interests  are  represented,  the  intercourse  between 
buyers  and  sellers  is  less  grave  and  methodical  than  in  the 
bazaar.  There  are  jokes,  laughter,  songs,  and  a  constant 
play  of  that  repartee  in  which  even  the  serfs  are  masters. 
Here,  too,  jugglers  and  mountebanks  of  all  sorts  ply  their 
trade  ;  gypsies  sing,  dance,  and  tell  fortunes ;  and  other 
vocations,  less  respectable  than  these,  flourish  vigorously. 
For,  whether  the  visitor  be  an  Ostiak  from  the  Polar  Cir 
cle,  an  Uzbek  from  the  Upper  Oxus,  a  Grim-Tartar  or 
Nogai,  a  Georgian  from  Tiflis,  a  Mongolian  from  the  Land 
of  Grass,  a  Persian  from  Ispahan,  a  Jew  from  Hamburg,  a 
Frenchman  from  Lyons,  a  Tyrolese,  Swiss,  Bohemian,  or 
an  Anglo-Saxon  from  either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  he  meets 
his  fellow- visitors  to  the  Great  Fair  on  the  common  ground, 
not  of  human  brotherhood,  but  of  human  appetite;  and  all 
the  manifold  nationalities  succumb  to  the  same  allurements. 
If  the  various  forms  of  indulgence  could  be  so  used  as  to 
propagate  ideas,  the  world  would  speedily  be  regenerated  ,• 
but  as  things  go,  "  cakes  and  ale  "  have  more  force  than 
the  loftiest  ideas,  the  noblest  theories  of  improvement ;  and 
the  impartial  observer  will  make  this  discovery  as  readily 
at  Nijni- Novgorod  as  anywhere  else. 

Befo.re  taking  leave  of  the  Fair,  let  me  give  a  word  to 
the  important  subject  of  tea.  It  is  a  much-disputed  ques 
tion  with  the  connoisseurs  of  that  beverage  which  neither 
cheers  nor  inebriates  (though,  I  confess,  it  is  more  agree 
able  than  koumiss),  whether  the  Russian  "  caravan  tea" 


BETWEEN  EUROPE  AND  ASIA.  83 

»•»  really  superior  to  that  which  is  imported  by  sea.  After 
much  patient  observation,  combined  with  serious  reflection, 
I  incline  to  the  opinion  that  the  flavor  of  tea  depends,  not 
upon  the  method  of  transportation,  but  upon  the  price  paid 
for  the  article.  I  have  tasted  bad  caravan  tea  in  Russia, 
and  delicious  tea  in  New  York.  In  St.  Petersburg  you 
cannot  procure  a  good  article  for  less  than  three  roubles 
($2.25,  gold)  per  pound ;  while  the  finer  kinds  bring 
twelve  and  even  sixteen  roubles.  Whoever  is  willing  to 
import  at  that  price  can  no  doubt  procure  tea  of  equal  ex 
cellence.  The  fact  is,  that  this  land-transportation  is  slow, 
laborious,  and  expensive  ;  hence  the  finer  kinds  of  tea  are 
always  selected,  a  pound  thereof  costing  no  more  for  car 
riage  than  a  pound  of  inferior  quality  ;  whence  the  supe 
rior  flavor  of  caravan  tea.  There  is,  however,  one  variety 
to  be  obtained  in  Russia  which  I  have  found  nowhere  else, 
not  even  in  the  Chinese  sea-ports.  It  is  called  "  imperial 
tea,"  and  comes  in  elegant  boxes  of  yellow  silk  emblazoned 
with  the  dragon  of  the  Hang  dynasty,  at  the  rate  of  from 
six  to  twenty  dollars  a  pound.  It  is  yellow,  and  the  decoc 
tion  from  it  is  almost  colorless.  A  small  pinch  of  it, 
added  to  ordinary  black  tea,  gives  an  indescribably  delicious 
flavor  —  the  very  aroma  of  the  tea-blossom  ;  but  one  cup 
of  it,  unmixed,  is  said  to  deprive  the  drinker  of  sleep  for 
three  nights. 

Monsieur  D.  brought  our  last  delightful  stroll  through 
the  glittering  streets  to  an  untimely  end.  The  train  for 
Moscow  was  to  leave  at  three  o'clock  ;  and  he  had  ordered 
an  early  dinner  at  the  restaurant.  By  the  time  this  was 
concluded,  it  was  necessary  to  drive  at  once  to  the  station, 
in  order  to  secure  places.  Vie  were  almost  too  late  ;  the 
train,  long  as  it  was,  was  crammed  to  overflowing ;  and 
although  both  station-master  and  conductor  assisted  us,  the 
eager  passengers  disregarded  their  authority.  With  great 
difficulty,  one  compartment  was  cleared  for  the  ladies  ;  in 
the  adjoining  one  four  merchants,  in  long  caftans,  with 


84  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

sacks  of  watermelons  as  provision  for  the  journey,  took 
their  places,  and  would  not  be  ejected.  A  scene  of  con 
fusion  ensued,  in  which  station-master,  conductor,  Mon 
sieur  D.,  my  friend  P.,  and  the  Russian  merchants  were 
curiously  mixed ;  but  when  we  saw  the  sacks  of  water 
melons  rolling  out  of  the  door,  we  knew  the  day  was  ours« 
In  two  minutes  more  we  were  in  full  possession ;  the  doors 
were  locked,  and  the  struggling  throngs  beat  against  them 
in  vain. 

With  a  grateful  farewell  to  our  kind  guide,  whose  rather 
severe  duties  for  our  sake  were  now  over,  we  moved  away 
from  the  station,  past  heaps  of  cotton-bales,  past  hills  of 
drifting  sand,  and  impassive  groups  of  Persians,  Tartars, 
and  Bukharians,  and  slowly  mounted  the  long  grade  to 
the  level  of  the  upland,  leaving  the  Fair  to  hum  and  whirl 
in  the  hollow  between  the  rivers,  and  the  white  walls  and 
golden  domes  of  Novgorod  to  grow  dim  on  the  crest  of  the 
receding  hill. 

The  next  morning,  at  sunrise,  we  were  again  in  Mos 
cow. 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.  PETERSBURG. 


As  September  drew  to  an  end,  with  only  here  and  there 
a  suggestion  of  autumn  in  chrome-colored  leaves  on  the 
ends  of  birch-branches,  we  were  told  that  any  day  might 
suddenly  bring  forth  winter.  I  remembered  that  five  years 
before,  in  precisely  the  same  season,  I  had  travelled  from 
Upsala  to  Stockholm  in  a  violent  snow-storm,  and  there 
fore  accepted  the  announcement  as  a  part  of  the  regular 
programme  of  the  year.  But  the  days  came  and  went; 
fashionable  equipages  forsook  their  summer  ground  of  the 
Islands,  and  crowded  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt ;  the  nights 
were  cold  and  raw ;  the  sun's  lessening  declination  was 
visible  from  day  to  day,  and  still  Winter  delayed  to  make 
his  appearance. 

The  Island  drive  was  our  favorite  resort  of  an  afternoon  ; 
and  we  continued  to  haunt  it  long  after  every  summer 
guest  had  disappeared,  and  when  the  datchas  and  palaces 
showed  plank  and  matting  in  place  of  balcony  and  window. 
In  the  very  heart  of  St.  Petersburg  the  one  full  stream  of 
the  Neva  splits  into  three  main  arms,  which  afterwards 
subdivide,  each  seeking  the  Gulf  of  Finland  at  its  own 
swift,  wild  will.  The  nearest  of  these  islands,  Vassili  Os- 
trow,  is  a  part  of  the  solid  city :  on  Kammenoi  and  Apte- 
karskoi  you  reach  the  commencement  of  gardens  and 
groves ;  and  beyond  these  the  rapid  waters  mirror  only 
palace,  park,  and  summer  theatre.  The  widening  streams 
continually  disclose  the  horizon-line  of  the  Gulf;  and  at 
the  farthest  point  of  the  drive,  where  the  road  turns 
sharply  back  again  from  the  freedom  of  the  shore  into 
mixed  woods  of  birch  and  pine,  the  shipping  at  Cronstadt 
—  and  sometimes  the  phantoms  of  fortresses — detach 


88  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

themselves  from  the  watery  haze,  and  the  hill  of  Pargola, 
in  Finland,  rises  to  break  the  dreary  level  of  the  Ingrian 
marshes. 

During  the  sunny  evenings  and  the  never-ending  twi 
lights  of  midsummer,  all  St.  Petersburg  pours  itself  upon 
these  islands.  A  league-long  wall  of  dust  rises  from  the 
carriages  and  droshkies  in  the  main  highway ;  and  the 
branching  Neva-arms  are  crowded  with  skiffs  and  diminu 
tive  steamers  bound  for  pleasure-gardens  where  gypsies 
sing  and  Tyrolese  yodel  and  jugglers  toss  their  knives  and 
balls,  and  private  rooms  may  be  had  for  gambling  and 
other  cryptic  diversions.  Although  with  shortened  days 
and  cool  evenings  the  tide  suddenly  took  a  reflux  and  the 
Nevskoi  became  a  suggestion  of  Broadway  (which,  of  all 
individual  streets,  it  most  nearly  resembles),  we  found  an 
indescribable  charm  in  the  solitude  of  the  fading  groves 
and  the  waves  whose  lamenting  murmur  foretold  their 
speedy  imprisonment.  We  had  the  whole  superb  drive  to 
ourselves.  It  is  true  that  Ivan,  upon  the  box,  lifted  his 
brows  in  amazement,  and  sighed  that  his  jaunty  cap  of 
green  velvet  should  be  wasted  upon  the  desert  air,  when 
ever  I  said,  "  Na  Ostrowa"  but  he  was  too  genuine  a  Rus 
sian  to  utter  a  word  of  remonstrance. 

Thus,  day  by  day,  unfashionable,  but  highly  satisfied,  we 
repeated  the  lonely  drive,  until  the  last  day  came,  as  it  al 
ways  will.  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  forget  it.  It  was  the 
first  day  of  November.  For  a  fortnight  the  temperature 
had  been  a  little  below  the  freezing-point,  and  the  leaves 
of  the  alder-thickets,  frozen  suddenly  and  preserved  as  in 
a  great  out-door  refrigerator,  maintained  their  green.  A 
pale  blue  mist  rose  from  the  Gulf  and  hung  over  the 
islands,  the  low  sun  showing  an  orange  disk,  which  touched 
the  shores  with  the  loveliest  color,  but  gave  no  warmth  to 
the  windless  air.  The  parks  and  gardens  were  wholly  de 
serted,  and  came  and  went,  on  either  side,  phantom-like  in 
their  soft,  gray,  faded  tints.  Under  every  bridge  flashed 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  89 

and  foamed  the  clear,  beryl-green  waters.  And  nobody  in 
St.  Petersburg,  except  ourselves,  saw  this  last  and  sunniest 
flicker  of  the  dying  season  ! 

The  very  next  day  was  cold  and  dark,  and  so  the  weather 
remained,  with  brief  interruptions,  for  months.  On  the 
evening  of  the  6th,  as  we  drove  over  the  Nikolai  Bridge 
to  dine  with  a  friend  on  Vassili  Ostrow,  we  noticed  frag 
ments  of  ice  floating  down  the  Neva.  Looking  up  the 
stream,  we  were  struck  by  the  fact  that  the  remaining 
bridges  had  been  detached  from  the  St.  Petersburg  side, 
floated  over,  and  anchored  along  the  opposite  shore.  This 
seemed  a  needless  precaution,  for  the  pieces  of  drift-ice 
were  hardly  large  enough  to  have  crushed  a  skiff.  How 
surprised  were  we,  then,  on  returning  home,  four  hours 
later,  to  find  the  noble  river  gone,  not  a  green  wave  to  be 
seen,  and,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  a  solid  floor  of  ice, 
over  which  people  were  already  crossing  to  and  fro ! 

Winter,  having  thus  suddenly  taken  possession  of  the 
world,  lost  no  time  in  setting  up  the  signs  of  his  rule.  The 
leaves,  whether  green  or  brown,  disappeared  at  one  swoop ; 
snow-gusts  obscured  the  little  remaining  sunshine  ;  the  in 
habitants  came  forth  in  furs  and  bulky  wrappings ;  oysters 
and  French  pears  became  unreasonably  dear ;  and  sledges 
of  frozen  fish  and  game  crowded  down  from  the  northern 
forests.  In  a  few  days  the  physiognomy  of  the  capital  was 
completely  changed.  All  its  life  and  stir  withdrew  from 
the  extremities  and  gathered  into  a  few  central  thorough 
fares,  as  if  huddling  together  for  mutual  warmth  and  en 
couragement  in  the  cold  air  and  under  the  gloomy  sky. 

For  darkness,  rather  than  cold,  is  the  characteristic  of 
the  St.  Petersburg  winter.  The  temperature,  which  at 
Montreal  or  St.  Paul  would  not  be  thought  remarkably 
low,  seems  to  be  more  severely  felt  here,  owing  to  the  ab 
sence  of  pure  daylight.  Although  both  Lake  Ladoga  and 
the  Gulf  of  Finland  are  frozen,  the  air  always  retains  a 
damp,  raw,  penetrating  quality,  and  the  snow  is  more  fre- 


90  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

quently  sticky  and  clammy  than  dry  and  crystalline.  Few, 
indeed,  are  the  days  which  are  not  cheerless  and  depress 
ing.  In  December,  when  the  sky  is  overcast  for  weeks  to 
gether,  the  sun,  rising  after  nine  o'clock,  and  sliding  along 
just  above  the  horizon,  enables  you  to  dispense  with  lamp 
light  somewhere  between  ten  and  eleven;  but  by  two  in 
the  afternoon  you  must  call  for  lights  again.  Even  when 
a  clear  day  comes,  the  yellow,  level  sunshine  is  a  combina 
tion  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  neither  tempers  the  air  nor 
mitigates  the  general  expression  of  gloom,  almost  of  de 
spair,  upon  the  face  of  Nature. 

The  preparations  for  the  season,  of  course,  have  been 
made  long  before.  In  most  houses  the  double  windows 
are  allowed  to  remain  through  the  summer,  but  they  must 
be  carefully  examined,  the  layer  of  cotton  between  them, 
at  the  bottom,  replenished,  a  small  vessel  of  salt  added  to 
absorb  the  moisture  and  prevent  it  from  freezing  on  the 
panes,  and  strips  of  paper  pasted  over  every  possible  crack. 
The  outer  doors  are  covered  with  wadded  leather,  over 
lapping  the  frames  on  all  sides.  The  habitations  being  thus 
almost  hermetically  sealed,  they  are  easily  warmed  by  the 
huge  porcelain  stoves,  which  retain  warmth  so  tenaciously 
that  one  fire  per  day  is  sufficient  for  the  most  sensitive 
constitutions.  In  my  own  room,  I  found  that  one  armful  of 
birch-wood,  reduced  to  coal,  every  alternate  morning,  created 
a  steady  temperature  of  64°.  Although  the  rooms  are 
always  spacious,  and  arranged  in  suites  of  from  three  to  a 
dozen,  according  to  the  extent  and  splendor  of  the  residence, 
the  atmosphere  soon  becomes  close  and  characterized  by 
an  unpleasant  odor,  suggesting  its  diminished  vitality ;  for 
which  reason  pastilles  are  burned,  or  eau  de  Cologne  re 
duced  to  vapor  in  a  heated  censer,  whenever  visits  are  an 
ticipated.  It  was  a  question  with  me,  whether  or  not  the 
advantage  of  a  thoroughly  equable  temperature  was  counter 
balanced  by  the  lack  of  circulation.  The  physical  depress 
ion  we  all  felt  seemed  to  result  chiefly  from  the  absence 
of  daylight. 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  91 

One  winter  picture  remains  clearly  outlined  upon  my 
memory.  In  the  beginning  of  December  we  happened 
once  to  drive  across  the  Admiralty  Square  in  the  early 
evening  twilight,  —  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The 
temperature  was  about  10°  below  zero,  the  sky  a  low  roof 
of  moveless  clouds,  which  seemed  to  be  frozen  in  their 
places.  The  pillars  of  St.  Isaac's  Cathedral  —  splendid 
monoliths  of  granite,  sixty  feet  high  —  had  precipitated  the 
moisture  of  the  air,  and  stood  silvered  with  rime  from  base 
to  capital.  The  Column  of  Alexander,  the  bronze  statue 
of  Peter,  with  his  horse  poised  in  air  on  the  edge  of  the 
rock,  and  the  trees  on  the  long  esplanade  in  front  of  the 
Admiralty,  were  all  similarly  coated,  every  twig  rising 
as  rigid  as  iron  in  the  dark  air.  Only  the  huge  golden 
hemisphere  of  the  Cathedral  dome,  and  the  tall,  pointed 
golden  spire  of  the  Admiralty,  rose  above  the  gloom,  and 
half  shone  with  a  muffled,  sullen  glare.  A  few  people, 
swaddled  from  head  to  foot,  passed  rapidly  to  and  fro,  or 
a  droshky,  drawn  by  a  frosted  horse,  sped  away  to  the  en 
trance  of  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt.  Even  these  appeared 
rather  like  wintry  phantoms  than  creatures  filled  with  warm 
blood  and  breathing  the  breath  of  life.  The  vast  spaces  of 
the  capital,  the  magnitude  of  its  principal  edifices,  and  the 
display  of  gold  and  colors,  strengthened  the  general  aspect 
of  unreality,  by  introducing  so  many  inharmonious  ele 
ments  into  the  picture.  A  bleak  moor,  with  the  light  of  a 
single  cottage-window  shining  across  it,  would  have  been 
less  cold,  dead,  and  desolate. 

The  temperature,  I  may  here  mention,  was  never  very 
severe.  There  were  three  days  when  the  mercury  fluctu 
ated  between  lo°  and  20°  below  zero,  five  days  when  it 
reached  10°  below,  and  perhaps  twenty  when  it  fell  to  zero, 
or  a  degree  or  two  on  either  side.  The  mean  of  the  five 
winter  months  was  certainly  not  lower  than  -f-12°.  Quite 
as  much  rain  fell  as  snow.  After  two  or  three  days  of 
sharp  cold,  there  was  almost  invariably  a  day  of  rain  or 


92  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

fog,  and  for  many  weeks  walking  was  so  difficult  that  we 
were  obliged  to  give  up  all  out-door  exercise  except 
skating  or  sliding.  The  streets  were  either  coated  with 
glassy  ice  or  they  were  a  foot  deep  in  slush.  There  is  more 
and  better  sleighing  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston  almost  any 
winter  than  in  St.  Petersburg  during  the  winter  of  1862-3. 
In  our  trips  to  the  Observatory  of  Pulkova,  twelve  miles 
distant,  we  were  frequently  obliged  to  leave  the  highway 
and  put  our  sled-runners  upon  the  frosted  grass  of  the 
meadows.  The  rapid  and  continual  changes  of  temperature 
were  more  trying  than  any  amount  of  steady  cold.  Grippe 
became  prevalent,  and  therefore  fashionable,  and  all  the 
endemic  diseases  of  St.  Petersburg  showed  themselves  in 
force.  The  city,  it  is  well  known,  is  built  upon  piles,  and 
most  of  the  inhabitants  suffer  from  them.  Children  look 
pale  and  wilted,  in  the  absence  of  the  sun,  and  special  care 
must  be  taken  of  those  under  five  years  of  age.  Some 
little  relatives  of  mine,  living  in  the  country,  had  their 
daily  tumble  in  the  snow,  and  thus  kept  ruddy ;  but  in  the 
city  this  is  not  possible,  and  we  had  many  anxious  days  be 
fore  the  long  darkness  was  over. 

As  soon  as  snow  had  fallen  and  freezing  weather  set  in, 
the  rough,  broken  ice  of  the  Neva  was  flooded  in  various 
places  for  skating-ponds,  and  the  work  of  erecting  ice-hills 
commenced.  There  were  speedily  a  number  of  the  latter 
in  full  play,  in  the  various  suburbs,  —  a  space  of  level 
ground,  at  least  a  furlong  in  length,  being  necessary.  They 
are  supported  by  subscription,  and  I  had  paid  ten  rubles 
for  permission  to  use  a  very  fine  one  on  the  farther  island, 
when  an  obliging  card  of  admission  came  for  the  gardens 
of  the  Taurida  Palace,  where  the  younger  members  of  the 
Imperial  family  skate  and  slide.  My  initiation,  however, 
took  place  at  the  first-named  locality,  whither  we  were  con 
ducted  by  an  old  American  resident  of  St.  Petersburg. 

The  construction  of  these  ice-hills  is  very  simple.  They 
are  rude  towers  of  timber,  twenty  to  thirty  feet  in  height. 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  93 

the  summit  of  which  is  reached  by  a  staircase  at  the  back, 
while  in  front  descends  a  steep  concave  of  planking  upon 
which  water  is  poured  until  it  is  covered  with  a  six-inch 
coating  of  solid  ice.  Raised  planks  at  the  side  keep  the 
sled  in  its  place  until  it  reaches  the  foot,  where  it  enters 
upon  an  icy  plain  two  to  four  hundred  yards  in  length  (in 
proportion  to  the  height  of  the  hill),  at  the  extremity  of 
which  rises  a  similar  hill,  facing  towards  the  first,  but  a 
little  on  one  side,  so  that  the  sleds  from  the  opposite  ends 
may  pass  without  collision. 

The  first  experience  of  this  diversion  is  fearful  to  a  per 
son  of  delicate  nerves.  The  pitch  of  the  descent  is  so 
sheer,  the  height  so  great  (apparently),  the  motion  of  the 
sled  so  swift,  and  its  course  so  easily  changed,  —  even  the 
lifting  of  a  hand  is  sufficient,  —  that  the  novice  is  almost 
sure  to  make  immediate  shipwreck.  The  sleds  are  small 
and  low,  with  smooth  iron  runners,  and  a  plush  cushion, 
upon  which  the  navigator  sits  bolt  upright  with  his  legs 
close  together,  projecting  over  the  front.  The  runners 
must  be  exactly  parallel  to  the  lines  of  the  course  at  start 
ing,  and  the  least  tendency  to  sway  to  either  side  must  be 
instantly  corrected  by  the  slightest  motion  of  the  hand. 

I  engaged  one  of  the  mujiks  in  attendance  to  pilot  me 
on  my  first  voyage.  The  man  having  taken  his  position 
well  forward  on  the  little  sled,  I  knelt  upon  the  rear  end, 
where  there  was  barely  space  enough  for  my  knees,  placed 
my  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  and  awaited  the  result.  He 
shoved  the  sled  with  his  hands,  very  gently  and  carefully, 
to  the  brink  of  the  icy  steep :  then  there  was  a  moment's 
adjustment:  then  a  poise:  then  —  sinking  of  the  heart, 
cessation  of  breath,  giddy  roaring  and  whistling  of  the  air, 
and  I  found  myself  scudding  along  the  level  with  the  speed 
of  an  express  train.  I  never  happened  to  fall  out  of  a 
fourth-story  window,  but  I  immediately  understood  the  sen 
sations  of  the  unfortunate  persons  who  do.  It  was  so 
frightful  that  I  shuddered  when  we  reached  the  end  of  the 


94  BY-WAYS    OF  EUROPE. 

course  and  the  man  coolly  began  ascending  the  steps  of 
the  opposite  hill,  with  the  sled  under  his  arm.  But  my  com 
panions  were  waiting  to  see  me  return,  so  I  mounted  after 
him,  knelt  again,  and  held  my  breath.  This  time,  knowing 
what  was  coining,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  our  descent,  and 
found  that  only  the  first  plunge  from  the  brink  was  threat 
ening.  The  lower  part  of  the  curve,  which  is  nearly  a 
parabolic  line,  is  more  gradual,  and  the  seeming  headlong 
fall  does  not  last  more  than  the  tenth  part  of  a  second. 
The  sensation,  nevertheless,  is  very  powerful,  having  all  the 
attraction,  without  the  reality,  of  danger. 

The  ice-hills  in  the  Taurida  Gardens  were  not  so  high, 
and  the  descent  was  less  abrupt:  the  course  was  the 
smooth  floor  of  an  intervening  lake,  which  was  kept  clear 
for  skating.  Here  I  borrowed  a  sled,  and  was  so  elated  at 
performing  the  feat  successfully,  on  the  first  attempt,  that 
I  offered  my  services  as  charioteer  to  a  lady  rash  enough 
to  accept  them.  The  increased  weight  gave  so  much  ad 
ditional  impetus  to  the  sled,  and  thus  rendered  its  guidance 
a  more  delicate  matter.  Finding  that  it  began  to  turn  even 
before  reaching  the  bottom,  I  put  down  my  hand  suddenly 
upon  the  ice.  The  effect  was  like  an  explosion  ;  we  struck 
the  edge  of  a  snow-bank,  and  were  thrown  entirely  over  it 
and  deeply  buried  on  the  opposite  side.  The  attendants 
picked  us  up  without  relaxing  a  muscle  of  their  grave,  re 
spectful  faces,  and  quietly  swept  the  ice  for  another  trial. 
But  after  that  I  preferred  descending  alone. 

Good  skaters  will  go  up  and  down  these  ice-hills  on  their 
skates.  The  feat  has  a  hazardous  look,  but  I  have  seen  it 
performed  by  boys  of  twelve.  The  young  Grand  Dukes 
who  visited  the  Gardens  generally  contented  themselves 
with  skating  around  the  lake  at  not  too  violent  a  speed. 
Some  ladies  of  the  court  circle  also  timidly  ventured  to  try 
the  amusement,  but  its  introduction  was  too  recent  for  the**? 
to  show  much  proficiency.  On  the  Neva,  in  fact,  the  English 
were  the  best  skaters.  During  the  winter,  one  of  them 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  95 

crossed  the  Gulf  to  Cronstadt,  a  distance  of  twenty-two 
miles,  in  about  two  hours. 

Before  Christmas,  the  Lapps  came  down  from  the  North 
with  their  reindeer,  and  pitched  their  tents  on  the  river,  in 
front  of  the  Winter  Palace.  Instead  of  the  canoe-shaped 
pulk,  drawn  by  a  single  deer,  they  hitched  four  abreast  to 
an  ordinary  sled,  and  took  half  a  dozen  passengers  at  a 
time,  on  a  course  of  a  mile,  for  a  small  fee.  I  tried  it  once, 
for  a  child's  sake,  but  found  that  the  romance  of  reindeer 
travel  was  lost  without  the  pulk.  The  Russian  sleighs  are 
very  similar  to  our  own  for  driving  about  the  city  :  in  very 
cold  weather,  or  for  trips  into  the  country,  the  kibitka,  a 
heavy  closed  carriage  on  runners,  is  used.  To  my  eye, 
the  most  dashing  team  in  the  world  is  the  troika,  or  three- 
span,  the  thill-horse  being  trained  to  trot  rapidly,  while 
the  other  two,  very  lightly  and  loosely  harnessed,  canter 
on  either  side  of  him.  From  the  ends  of  the  thills 
springs  a  wooden  arch,  called  the  duga,  rising  eighteen 
inches  above  the  horse's  shoulder,  and  usually  emblazoned 
with  gilding  and  brilliant  colors.  There  was  one  magnifi 
cent  troika  on  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt,  the  horses  of  which 
were  full-blooded,  jet-black  matches,  and  their  harness 
formed  of  overlapping  silver  scales.  The  Russians  being 
the  best  coachmen  in  the  world,  these  teams  dash  past  each 
other  at  furious  speed,  often  escaping  collision  by  the 
breadth  of  a  hair,  but  never  coming  in  violent  contact. 

With  the  approach  of  winter  the  nobility  returned  from 
their  estates,  the  diplomatists  from  their  long  summer  va 
cation,  the  Imperial  Court  from  Moscow,  and  the  previous 
social  desolation  of  the  capital  came  speedily  to  an  end. 
There  were  dinners  and  routs  in  abundance,  but  the  sea 
son  of  balls  was  not  fairly  inaugurated  until  invitations  had 
been  issued  for  the  first  at  the  Winter  Palace.  This  is 
usually  a  grand  affair,  the  guests  numbering  from  fifteen 
hundred  to  two  thousand.  We  were  agreeably  surprised  at 
finding  half-past  nine  fixed  as  the  hour  of  arrival,  and 


96  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

took  pains  to  be  punctual ;  but  there  were  already  a  hun 
dred  yards  of  carriages  in  advance.  The  toilet,  of  course, 
must  be  fully  completed  at  home,  and  the  huge  pelisses  of 
fur  so  adjusted  as  not  to  disarrange  head-dresses,  lace,  crin 
oline,  or  uniform:  the  footmen  must  be  prompt,  on  reach 
ing  the  covered  portal,  to  promote  speedy  alighting  and 
unwrapping,  which  being  accomplished,  each  sits  guard  for 
the  night  over  his  own  special  pile  of  pelisses  and  furred 
boots. 

When  the  dresses  are  shaken  out  and  the  gloves 
smoothed,  at  the  foot  of  the  grand  staircase,  an  usher,  in  a 
short  bedizened  red  tunic  and  white  knee-breeches,  with  a 
cap  surmounted  by  three  colossal  white  plumes,  steps  before 
you  and  leads  the  way  onward  through  the  spacious  halls, 
ablaze  with  light  from  thousands  of  wax  candles.  I  always 
admired  the  silent  gravity  of  these  ushers,  and  their  slow, 
majestic,  almost  mysterious  march  —  until  one  morning 
at  home,  when  I  was  visited  by  four  common-looking  Rus 
sians,  in  blue  caftans,  who  bowed  nearly  to  the  floor  and 
muttered  congratulations.  It  was  a  deputation  of  the  Im 
perial  ushers,  making  their  rounds  for  New  Year's  gifts ! 

Although  the  streets  of  St.  Petersburg  are  lighted  with 
gas,  the  palaces  and  private  residences  are  still  illuminated 
only  with  wax  candles.  Gas  is  considered  plebeian,  but  it 
has  probably  also  been  found  to  be  disagreeable  in  the 
close  air  of  the  hermetically  sealed  apartments.  Candles 
are  used  in  such  profusion  that  I  am  told  thirty  thousand 
are  required  to  light  up  an  Imperial  ball.  The  quadruple 
rows  of  columns  which  support  the  Hall  of  St.  George  are 
spirally  entwined  with  garlands  of  wax-lights,  and  immense 
chandeliers  are  suspended  from  the  ceiling.  The  wicks 
of  each  column  are  connected  with  threads  dipped  in  some 
inflammable  mixture,  and  each  thread,  being  kindled  at 
the  bottom  at  the  same  instant,  the  light  is  carried  in  a  few 
seconds  to  every  candle  in  the  hall.  This  instantaneous 
kindling  of  so  many  thousand  wicks  has  a  magical  effect 


WINTER-LIFE    IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  97 

At  the  door  of  the  great  hall  the  usher  steps  aside, 
bows  gravely,  and  returns,  and  one  of  the  deputy  masters 
of  ceremonies  receives  you.  These  gentlemen  are  chosen 
from  among  the  most  distinguished  families  of  Russia,  and 
are,  without  exception,  so  remarkable  for  tact,  kindness, 
and  discretion,  that  the  multitude  falls,  almost  uncon 
sciously,  into  the  necessary  observances  ;  and  the  perfection 
of  ceremony,  which  hides  its  own  external  indications,  is 
attained.  Violations  of  etiquette  are  most  rare,  yet  no 
court  in  the  world  appears  more  simple  and  unconstrained 
in  its  forms. 

In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  after  the  appointed  time  the 
hall  is  filled,  and  a  blast  from  the  orchestra  announces  the 
entrance  of  the  Imperial  family.  The  ministers  and  chief 
personages  of  the  court  are  already  in  their  proper  places, 
and  the  representatives  of  foreign  nations  stand  on  one 
side  of  the  door-way  in  their  established  order  of  prece 
dence  (determined  by  length  of  residence  near  the  court), 
with  the  ladies  of  their  body  on  the  opposite  side. 

Alexander  II.  was  much  brighter  and  more  cheerful 
than  during  the  preceding  summer.  His  care-worn,  pre 
occupied  air  was  gone ;  the  dangers  which  then  encom 
passed  him  had  subsided  ;  the  nobility,  although  still  chaf 
ing  fiercely  against  the  decree  of  emancipation,  were  slowly 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  its  consummation  is  inevita 
ble  ;  and  the  Emperor  began  to  feel  that  his  great  work 
will  be  safely  accomplished.  His  dark-green  uniform  well 
becomes  his  stately  figure  and  clearly  chiseled,  symmetri 
cal  head.  He  is  Nicholas  recast  in  a  softer  mould,  wherein 
tenacity  of  purpose  is  substituted  for  rigid,  inflexible  will, 
and  the  development  of  the  nation  at  home  supplants  the 
ambition  for  predominant  political  influence  abroad.  This 
difference  is  expressed,  despite  the  strong  personal  resem 
blance  to  his  father,  in  the  more  frank  and  gentle  eye,  the 
fuller  and  more  sensitive  mouth,  and  the  rounder  lines  of 
jaw  and  forehead.  A  free,  natural  directness  of  manner 

7 


98  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


and  speech  is  his  principal  characteristic.  He  wears  easily, 
almost  playfully,  the  yoke  of  court  ceremonial,  temporarily 
casting  it  aside  when  troublesome.  In  two  respects  he 
differs  from  most  of  the  other  European  rulers  whom  I 
have  seen :  he  looks  the  sovereign,  and  he  unbends  as 
gracefully  and  unostentatiously  as  a  man  risen  from  the 
ranks  of  the  people.  There  is  evidently  better  stuff  than 
kings  are  generally  made  of  in  the  Romanoff  line. 

Grace  and  refinement,  rather  than  beauty,  distinguish 
the  Empress,  though  her  eyes  and  hair  deserve  the  latter 
epithet.  She  is  an  invalid,  and  appears  pale  and  some 
what  worn  ;  but  there  is  no  finer  group  of  children  in 
Europe  than  those  to  whom  she  has  given  birth.  Six  sons 
and  one  daughter  are  her  jewels ;  and  of  these,  the  third 
son,  Vladimir,  is  almost  ideally  handsome.  Her  dress  was 
at  once  simple  and  superb  —  a  cloud  of  snowy  tulle,  with 
a  scarf  of  pale-blue  velvet,  twisted  with  a  chain  of  the 
largest  diamonds  and  tied  with  a  knot  and  tassel  of  pearls» 
resting  half-way  down  the  skirt,  as  if  it  had  slipped  from 
her  waist.  On  another  occasion,  I  remember  her  wearing 
a  crown  of  five  stars,  the  centres  of  which  were  single 
enormous  rubies  and  the  rays  of  diamonds,  so  set  on  invis 
ible  wires  that  they  burned  in  the  air  over  her  head.  The 
splendor  which  was  a  part  of  her  role  was  always  made 
subordinate  to  rigid  taste,  and  herein  prominently  distin 
guished  her  from  many  of  the  Russian  ladies,  who  carried 
great  fortunes  upon  their  heads,  necks,  and  bosoms.  I 
had  several  opportunities  of  conversing  with  her,  generally 
upon  Art  and  Literature,  and  was  glad  to  find  that  she 
had  both  read  and  thought,  as  well  as  seen.  The  honored 
author  of  "  Evangeline  "  numbers  her  among  his  apprecia 
tive  readers. 

After  their  Majesties  have  made  the  circle  of  the  diplo 
matic  corps,  the  Polonaise,  which  always  opens  a  Court 
ball,  commences.  The  Grand  Dukes  Nicholas  and  Mi 
chael  (brothers  of  the  Emperor),  and  the  younger  mem- 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  99 

hers  of  the  Imperial  family,  take  part  in  it,  the  latter  evi 
dently  impatient  for  the  succeeding  quadrilles  and  waltzes. 
When  this  is  finished,  all  palpable,  obtrusive  ceremony  is 
at  an  end.  Dancing,  conversation,  cards,  strolls  through 
the  sumptuous  halls,  fill  the  hours.  The  Emperor  wanders 
freely  through  the  crowd,  saluting  here  and  there  a  friend, 
exchanging  badinage  with  the  wittiest  ladies  (which  they 
all  seem  at  liberty  to  give  back,  without  the  least  embar 
rassment),  or  seeking  out  the  scarred  and  gray-haired 
officers  who  have  come  hither  from  alKparts  of  the  vast 
empire.  He  does  not  scrutinize  whether  or  not  your  back 
is  turned  towards  him  as  he  passes.  Once,  on  entering  a 
door  rather  hastily,  I  came  within  an  ace  of  a  personal  col 
lision  ;  whereupon  he  laughed  good-humoredly,  caught  rne 
by  the  hands,  and  saying.  "  It  would  have  been  a  shock, 
n'est-ce  pas  ?  "  hurried  on. 

To  me  the  most  delightful  part  of  the  "Winter  Palace 
was  the  garden.  It  forms  one  of  the  suite  of  thirty  halls, 
some  of  them  three  hundred  feet  long,  on  the  second  story. 
In  this  garden,  which  is  perhaps  a  hundred  feet  square  by 
forty  in  height,  rise  clumps  of  Italian  cypress  and  laurel 
from  beds  of  emerald  turf  and  blooming  hyacinths.  In 
the  centre,  a  fountain  showers  over  fern-covered  rocks, 
and  the  gravel-walks  around  the  border  are  shaded  by  tall 
camellia-trees  in  white  and  crimson  bloom.  Lamps  of 
frosted  glass,  hang  among  the  foliage,  and  diffuse  a  mellow 
golden  moonlight  over  the  enchanted  ground.  The  cor 
ridor  adjoining  the  garden  resembles  a  bosky  alley,  so 
completely  are  the  walls  hidden  by  flowering  shrubbery. 

Leaving  the  Imperial  family,  and  the  kindred  houses  of 
Leuchtenberg,  Oldenburg,  and  Mecklenburg,  all  of  which 
are  represented,  let  us  devote  a  little  attention  to  the 
ladies,  and  the  crowd  of  distinguished,  though  unroyal  per 
sonages.  The  former  are  all  decolletees,  of  course,  —  even 
the  Countess ,  who,  I  am  positively  assured,  is  ninety- 
five  years  old ;  but  I  do  not  notice  much  uniformity  of 


100  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

taste,  except  in  the  matter  of  head-dresses.  Chignons  have 
not  yet  made  their  appearance,  but  there  are  huge  coils 
and  sweeps  of  hair  —  a  mane-like  munificence,  so  disposed 
as  to  reveal  the  art  and  conceal  the  artifice.  The  orna 
ments  are  chiefly  flowers,  though  here  and  there  I  see 
jewels,  coral,  mossy  sticks,  dead  leaves,  birds,  and  birds'- 
nests.  From  the  blonde  locks  of  yonder  princess  hang 
bunches  of  green  brook-grass,  and  a  fringe  of  the  same 
trails  from  her  bosom  and  skirt :  she  resembles  a  fished-up 
and  restored  Ophelia.  Here  passes  a  maiden  with  a 
picket-fence  of  rose  coral  as  a  berthe,  and  she  seems  to 
have  another  around  the  bottom  of  her  dress ;  but,  as  the 
mist  of  tulle  is  brushed  aside  in  passing,  we  can  detect 
that  the  latter  is  a  clever  chenille  imitation.  There  is  an 
other  with  small  moss-covered  twigs  arranged  in  the  same 
way ;  and  yet  another  with  fifty  black-lace  butterflies,  of 
all  sizes,  clinging  to  her  yellow  satin  skirt.  All  this  swim 
ming  and  intermingling  mass  of  color  is  dotted  over  with 
sparkles  of  jewel-light ;  and  even  the  grand  hall,  with  its 
gilded  columns  and  thousands  of  tapers,  seems  but  a  sober 
frame  for  so  gorgeous  a  picture. 

I  can  only  pick  out  a  few  of  the  notable  men  present, 
because  there  is  no  space  to  give  biographies  as  well  as 
portraits.  That  man  of  sixty,  in  rich  civil  uniform,  who 
entered  with  the  Emperor,  and  who  at  once  reminds  an 
American  of  Edward  Everett  both  in  face  and  in  the  pol 
ished  grace  and  suavity  of  his  manner,  is  one  of  the  first 
statesmen  of  Europe  —  Prince  Alexander  Gortchakoff. 
Of  medium  height  and  robust  frame,  with  a  keen,  alert  eye, 
a  broad,  thoughtful  forehead,  and  a  wonderfully  sagacious 
mouth,  the  upper  lip  slightly  covering  the  under  one  at  the 
corners,  he  immediately  arrests  your  attention,  and  your  eye 
unconsciously  follows  him  as  he  makes  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  with  a  friendly  word  for  this  man  and  an  elegant 
rapier-thrust  for  that.  His  predominant  mood,  however, 
is  a  cheerful  good  nature  ;  his  wit  and  irony  belong  rather 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  101 

to  the  diplomatist  than  to  the  man.    There  is  no  sounder  or 
more  prudent  head  in  Russia. 

But  who  is  this  son  of  Anak,  approaching  from  the  cor 
ridor?  Towering  a  full  head  above  the  throng,  a  figure  of 
superb  strength  and  perfect  symmetry,  we  give  him  that 
hearty  admiration  which  is  due  to  a  man  who  illustrates 
and  embellishes  manhood.  In  this  case  we  can  give  it 
freely  ;  for  that  finely  balanced  head  holds  a  clear,  vig 
orous  brain  ;  those  large  blue  eyes  look  from  the  depths 
of  a  frank,  noble  nature ;  and  in  that  broad  breast  beats 
a  heart  warm  with  love  for  his  country,  and  good-will  for 
his  fellow-men,  whether  high  or  low.  It  is  Prince  Su- 
voroff,  the  Military  Governor  of  St.  Petersburg.  If  I 
were  to  spell  his  name  "  Suwarrow,"  you  would  know  who 
his  grandfather  was,  and  what  place  in  Russian  history  he 
fills.  In  a  double  sense  the  present  Prince  is  cast  in  an 
heroic  mould.  It  speaks  well  for  Russia  that  his  qualities 
are  so  truly  appreciated.  He  is  beloved  by  the  people,  and 
trusted  by  the  Imperial  Government :  for,  while  firm  in  his 
administration  of  affairs,  he  is  humane,  —  while  cautious, 
energetic,  —  and  while  shrewd  and  skillful,  frank  and 
honest.  A  noble  man,  whose  like  I  wish  were  oftener  to 
be  found  in  the  world. 

Here  are  two  officers,  engaged  in  earnest  conversation. 
The  little  old  man,  with  white  hair,  and  thin,  weather- 
beaten,  wrinkled  face,  is  Admiral  Baron  Wrangel,  whose 
Arctic  explorations  on  the  northern  coast  of  Siberia  are 
known  to  all  geographers.  Having  read  of  them  as  a  boy, 
and  then  as  things  of  the  past,  I  was  greatly  delighted  at 
finding  the  brave  old  Admiral  still  alive,  and  at  the  privi 
lege  of  taking  his  hand  and  hearing  him  talk  in  English 
as  fluent  as  my  own.  The  young  officer,  with  rosy  face, 
brown  moustache,  and  profile  strikingly  like  that  of  Gen 
eral  McClellan,  has  already  made  his  mark.  He  is  Gen 
eral  Ignatieff,  the  most  prominent  young  man  of  the  em 
pire.  Although  scarcely  thirty-five,  he  has  already  filled 


102  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

special  missions  to  Bukharia  and  Peking,  and  took  a  lead 
ing  part  in  the  Treaty  of  Tien-tsin.  At  the  time  of  which 
I  write,  he  was  Deputy  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  and 
Chief  of  the  Asiatic  Department. 

I  might  mention  Count  BludofF,  the  venerable  President 
of  the  Academy  of  Sciences  ;  General  Todleben  ;  Admiral 
Liittke ;  and  the  distinguished  members  of  the  Galitzin, 
Narischkin,  Apraxin,  Dolgorouky,  and  Scheremetieff  fami 
lies,  who  are  present,  —  but  by  this  time  the  interminable 
mazourka  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and  a  master  of  ceremonies 
suggests  that  we  shall  step  into  an  adjoining  hall  to  await 
the  signal  for  supper.  The  refreshments  previously  fur 
nished  consisted  simply  of  tea,  orgeat,  and  cooling  drinks 
made  of  cranberries,  Arctic  raspberries,  and  other  fruits ; 
it  is  two  hours  past  midnight,  and  we  may  frankly  confess 
hunger. 

While  certain  other  guests  are  being  gathered  together, 
I  will  mention  another  decoration  of  the  halls,  peculiar  to 
St.  Petersburg.  On  either  side  of  all  the  doors  of  com 
munication  in  the  long  range  of  halls,  stands  a  negro  in 
rich  oriental  costume,  reminding  one  of  the  mute  palace- 
guards  in  the  Arabian  tales.  Happening  to  meet  one  of 
these  men  in  the  Summer  Garden,  I  addressed  him  in 
Arabic  ;  but  he  knew  only  enough  of  the  language  to  in 
form  me  that  he  was  born  in  Dar-Fur.  I  presume,  there 
fore,  they  were  obtained  in  Constantinople.  In  the  large 
halls,  which  are  illustrated  with  paintings  of  battles,  in  all 
the  Russian  campaigns  from  Pultowa  to  Sebastopol,  are 
posted  companies  of  soldiers  at  the  farther  end  —  a  differ 
ent  regiment  to  each  hall.  For  six  hours  these  men  and 
their  officers  stand  motionless  as  statues.  Not  a  move 
ment,  except  now  and  then  of  the  eyelid,  can  be  detected ; 
even  their  respiration  seems  to  be  suspended.  There  is 
something  weird  and  uncanny  in  such  a  preternatural 
silence  and  apparent  death-in-life.  I  became  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  some  form  of  catalepsy  had  seized  and 


WINTEK-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  103 

bound  them  in  strong  trance.  The  eyeballs  were  fixed: 
they  stared  at  me  and  saw  me  not :  their  hands  were  glued 
to  the  weapons,  and  their  feet  to  the  floor.  I  suspect  there 
must  have  been  some  stolen  relief  when  no  guest  happened 
to  be  present,  yet,  come  when  I  might,  I  found  them  un 
changed.  When  I  reflected  that  the  men  were  undoubtedly 
very  proud  of  the  distinction  they  enjoyed,  and  that  their 
case  demanded  no  sympathy,  I  could  inspect  and  admire 
them  with  an  easy  mind. 

The  Grand  Chamberlain  now  advances,  followed  by  the 
Imperial  family,  behind  which,  in  a  certain  order  of  pre 
cedence,  the  guests  fall  into  place,  and  we  presently  reach 
a  supper-hall,  gleaming  with  silver  and  crystal.  There 
are  five  others,  I  am  told,  and  each  of  the  two  thousand 
guests  has  his  chair  and  plate.  In  the  centre  stands  the 
Imperial  table,  on  a  low  platform :  between  wonderful 
epergnes  of  gold  spreads  a  bed  of  hyacinths  and  crocuses. 
Hundreds  of  other  epergnes,  of  massive  silver,  flash  from 
the  tables  around.  The  forks  and  spoons  are  gold,  the 
decanters  of  frosted  crystal,  covered  with  silver  vine-leaves  ; 
even  the  salt-cellars  are  works  of  art.  It  is  quite  proper 
that  the  supper  should  be  substantial ;  and  as  one  such  en 
tertainment  is  a  pattern  for  all  that  succeed,  I  may  be  al 
lowed  to  mention  the  principal  dishes  :  creme  de  Vorge,  pate 
de  foie  gras,  cutlets  of  fowl,  game,  asparagus,  and  salad, 
followed  by  fruits,  ices,  and  bon-bons,  and  moistened  with 
claret,  Sauterne,  and  Champagne.  I  confess,  however,  that 
the  superb  silver  chasing,  and  the  balmy  hyacinths  which 
almost  leaved  over  my  plate,  feasted  my  senses  quite  as 
much  as  the  delicate  viands. 

After  supper,  the  company  returns  to  the  Hall  of  St. 
George,  a  quadrille  or  two  is  danced  to  promote  digestion, 
and  the  members  of  ihe  Imperial  family,  bowing  first  to 
the  diplomatic  corps,  and  then  to  the  other  guests,  retire 
to  the  private  apartments  of  the  palace.  Now  we  are  at 
liberty  to  leave,  —  not  sooner,  —  and  rapidly,  yet  not  with 


104  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

undignified  haste,  seek  the  main  staircase.  Cloaking  and 
booting  (Ivan  being  on  hand,  with  eyes  like  a  lynx)  are 
performed  without  regard  to  head-dress  or  uniform,  and 
we  wait  while  the  carriages  are  being  called,  until  the 
proper  pozlannik  turns  up.  If  we  envied  those  who  got  off 
sooner,  we  are  now  envied  by  those  who  still  must  wait, 
bulky  in  black  satin  or  cloth,  in  sable  or  raccoon  skin.  It 
is  half  past  three  when  we  reach  home,  and  there  are  still 
six  hours  until  sunrise. 

The  succeeding  balls,  whether  given  by  the  Grand 
Dukes,  the  principal  members  of  the  Russian  nobility,  or 
the  heads  of  foreign  legations,  were  conducted  on  the 
same  plan,  except  that,  in  the  latter  instances,  the  guests 
were  not  so  punctual  in  arriving.  The  pleasantest  of  the 
season  was  one  given  by  the  Emperor  in  the  Hermitage 
Palace.  The  guests,  only  two  hundred  in  number,  were 
bidden  to  come  in  ordinary  evening-dress,  and  their  Im 
perial  Majesties  moved  about  among  them  as  simply  and 
unostentatiously  as  any  well-bred  American  host  and  host 
ess.  On  a  staircase  at  one  side  of  the  Moorish  Hall  sat  a 
distinguished  Hungarian  artist,  sketching  the  scene,  with 
its  principal  figures,  for  a  picture. 

I  was  surprised  to  find  how  much  true  social  culture  ex 
ists  in  St.  Petersburg.  Aristocratic  manners,  in  their  per 
fection,  are  simply  democratic ;  but  this  is  a  truth  which  is 
scarcely  recognized  by  the  nobility  of  Germany,  and  only 
partially  by  that  of  England.  The  habits  of  refined  society 
are  very  much  the  same  everywhere.  The  man  or  woman 
of  real  culture  recognizes  certain  forms  as  necessary,  that 
social  intercourse  may  be  ordered  instead  of  being  arbitrary 
and  chaotic  ;  but  these  forms  must  not  be  allowed  to  limit 
the  free,  expansive  contact  of  mind  with  mind  and  charac 
ter  with  character  which  is  the  charm  and  blessing  of  society. 
Those  who  meet  within  the  same  walls  meet  upon  an  equal 
footing,  and  all  accidental  distinctions  cease  for  the  time.  I 
found  these  principles  acted  upon  to  quite  as  full  an  ex« 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.   PETERSBURG.  105 

tent  as  (perhaps  even  more  so  than)  they  are  at  home. 
One  of  the  members  of  the  Imperial  family,  even,  expressed 
to  me  the  intense  weariness  occasioned  by  the  observance 
of  the  necessary  forms  of  court  life,  and  the  wish  that  they 
might  be  made  as  simple  as  possible. 

I  was  interested  in  extending  my  acquaintance  among 
the  Russian  nobility,  as  they,  to  a  certain  extent,  represent 
the  national  culture.  So  far  as  my  observations  reached,  T 
found  that  the  women  were  better  read,  and  had  more 
general  knowledge  of  art,  literature,  and  even  politics,  than 
the  men.  My  most  instructive  intercourse  was  with  the 
former.  It  seemed  that  most  men  (here  I  am  not  speak 
ing  of  the  members  of  the  Imperial  Government)  had  each 
his  specialty,  beyond  which  he  showed  but  a  limited  in 
terest.  There  was  one  distinguished  circle,  however, 
where  the  intellectual  level  of  the  conversation  was  as  high 
as  I  have  ever  found  it  anywhere,  and  where  the  only  title 
to  admission  prescribed  by  the  noble  host  was  the  capacity 
to  take  part  in  it.  In  that  circle  I  heard  not  only  the 
Polish  Question  discussed,  but  the  Unity  or  Diversity  of 
Races,  Modern  and  Classic  Art,  Strauss,  Emerson,  and 
Victor  Hugo,  the  ladies  contributing  their  share.  At  a 
soiree  given  by  the  Princess  Lvoff,  I  met  Richard  Wagner, 
the  composer,  Rubinstein,  the  pianist,  and  a  number  of 
artists  and  literary  men. 

A  society,  the  head  of  which  is  a  court,  and  where  ex 
ternals,  of  necessity,  must  be  first  considered,  is  not  the 
place  to  seek  for  true  and  lasting  intimacies  ;  but  one  may 
find  what  is  next  best,  in  a  social  sense  —  cheerful  and 
cordial  intercourse.  The  circle  of  agreeable  and  friendly 
acquaintance  continually  enlarged ;  and  I  learned  to  know 
one  friend  (and  perhaps  one  should  hardly  expect  more 
than  that  in  any  year)  whom  I  shall  not  forget,  nor  he  me, 
though  we  never  meet  again.  The  Russians  have  been 
unjustly  accused  of  a  lack  of  that  steady,  tender,  faithful 
depth  of  character  upon  which  friendship  must  rest.  Let 


106  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

us  not  forget  that  one  of  Washington  Irving's  dearest 
friends  was  Prince  Dolgorouki. 

Nevertheless,  the  constant  succession  of  entertain ments, 
agreeable  as  they  were,  became  in  the  end  fatiguing  to 
quiet  persons  like  ourselves.  The  routs  and  soirees,  it  is 
true,  were  more  informal  and  unceremonious  :  one  was  not 
obliged  to  spend  more  than  an  hour  at  each,  but  then  one 
was  not  expected  to  arrive  before  eleven  o'clock.  We  fell, 
perforce,  into  the  habits  of  the  place,  —  of  sleeping  two  or 
three  hours  after  dinner,  then  rising,  and  after  a  cup  of 
strong  tea,  dressing  for  the  evening.  After  Carnival,  the 
balls  ceased  ;  but  there  were  still  frequent  routs,  until 
Easter  week  closed  the  season. 

I  was  indebted  to  Admiral  Luttke,  President  of  the  Im 
perial  Geographical  Society,  for  an  invitation  to  attend  its 
sessions,  some  of  which  were  of  the  most  interesting  char 
acter.  My  great  regret  was,  that  a  very  imperfect  knowl 
edge  of  the  language  prevented  me  from  understanding 
much  of  the  proceedings.  On  one  occasion,  while  a  paper 
on  the  survey  of  the  Caspian  Sea  was  being  read,  a  tall, 
stately  gentleman,  sitting  at  the  table  beside  me,  obligingly 
translated  all  the  principal  facts  into  French,  as  they  were 
stated.  I  afterwards  found  that  he  was  Count  Panin,  Min 
ister  of  Justice.  In  the  transactions  of  the  various  literary 
and  scientific  societies,  the  Russian  language  has  now  en 
tirely  supplanted  the  French,  although  the  latter  keeps  its 
place  in  the  salons,  chiefly  on  account  of  the  foreign  ele 
ment.  The  Empress  has  weekly  conversazioni,  at  which 
only  Russian  is  spoken,  and  to  which  no  foreigners  are 
admitted.  It  is  becoming  fashionable  to  have  visiting- 
cards  in  both  languages. 

Of  all  the  ceremonies  which  occurred  during  the  winter, 
that  of  New  Year's  Day  (January  13th,  N.  S.)  was  most 
interesting.  After  the  members  of  the  different  legations 
had  called  in  a  body  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  Emperor 
and  Empress,  the  latter  received  the  ladies  of  the  Court, 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  107 

who,  on  this  occasion,  wore  the  national  costume,  in  the 
grand  hall.  We  were  permitted  to  witness  the  spectacle, 
which  is  unique  of  its  kind  and  wonderfully  beautiful.  The 
Empress,  having  taken  her  place  alone  near  one  end  of 
the  hall,  with  the  Emperor  and  his  family  at  a  little  dis 
tance  on  her  right,  the  doors  at  the  other  end  —  three  hun 
dred  feet  distant  —  were  thrown  open,  and  a  gorgeous  pro 
cession  approached,  sweeping  past  the  gilded  columns,  and 
growing  with  every  step  in  color  and  splendor.  The  ladies 
walked  in  single  file,  about  eight  feet  apart,  each  holding 
the  train  of  the  one  preceding  her.  The  costume  consists 
of  a  high,  crescent-shaped  head-dress  of  velvet  covered  with 
jewels  ;  a  short,  embroidered  corsage  of  silk  or  velvet,  with 
open  sleeves ;  a  full  skirt  and  sweeping  train  of  velvet  or 
satin  or  moire,  with  a  deep  border  of  point-lace.  As  the 
first  lady  approached  the  Empress,  her  successor  dropped 
the  train,  spreading  it,  by  a  dexterous  movement,  to  its 
full  breadth  on  the  polished  floor.  The  lady,  thus  re 
leased,  bent  her  knee,  and  took  the  Empress's  hand  to  kiss 
it,  which  the  latter  prevented  by  gracefully  lifting  her  and 
saluting  her  on  the  forehead.  After  a  few  words  of  con 
gratulation,  she  passed  across  the  hall,  making  a  profound 
obeisance  to  the  Emperor  on  the  way. 

This  was  the  most  trying  part  of  the  ceremony.  She 
was  alone  and  unsupported,  with  all  eyes  upon  her,  and  it 
required  no  slight  amount  of  skill  and  self-possession  to 
cross  the  hall,  bow,  and  carry  her  superb  train  to  the  op 
posite  side,  without  turning  her  back  on  the  Imperial  pres 
ence.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  the  dazzling  group  gathered 
on  the  right  equaled  in  numbers  the  long  line  marching  up 
on  the  left  —  and  still  they  came.  It  was  a  luxury  of  color, 
scarcely  to  be  described,  —  all  flowery  and  dewy  tints,  in 
a  setting  of  white  and  gold.  There  were  crimson,  maroon, 
blue,  lilac,  salmon,  peach-blossom,  mauve,  magenta,  silver- 
gray,  pearl-rose,  daffodil,  pale  orange,  purple,  pea-green, 
sea-green,  scarlet,  violet,  drab,  and  pink,  —  and,  whether 


108  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

by  accident  or  design,  the  succession  of  colors  never 
shocked  by  too  violent  contrast.  This  was  the  perfection 
of  scenic  effect ;  and  we  lingered,  enjoying  it  exquisitely, 
until  the  last  of  several  hundred  ladies  closed  the  radiant 
spectacle. 

The  festival  of  Epiphany  is  celebrated  by  the  blessing 
of  the  waters  of  the  Neva,  followed  by  a  grand  military 
review  on  the  Admiralty  Square.  We  were  invited  to 
witness  both  ceremonies  from  the  windows  of  the  Winter 
Palace,  where,  through  the  kindness  of  Prince  Dolgorouki, 
we  obtained  favorable  points  of  view.  As  the  ceremonies 
last  two  or  three  hours,  an  elegant  breakfast  was  served 

to  the  quests  in  the  Moorish  Hall.     The  blessing  of  the 

^ 

Neva  is  a  religious  festival,  with  the  accompaniment  of 
tapers,  incense,  and  chanting  choirs,  and  we  could  only  see 
that  the  Emperor  performed  his  part  uncloaked  and  bare 
headed  in  the  freezing  air,  finishing  by  descending  the 
steps  of  an  improvised  chapel  and  well  (the  building  an 
swered  both  purposes),  and  drinking  the  water  from  a  hole 
in  the  ice.  Far  and  wide  over  the  frozen  surface  similar 
holes  were  cut,  where,  during  the  remainder  of  the  day, 
priests  officiated,  and  thousands  of  the  common  people 
were  baptized  by  immersion.  As  they  generally  came  out 
covered  with  ice,  warm  booths  were  provided  for  them  on 
the  banks,  where  they  thawed  themselves  out,  rejoicing 
that  they  would  now  escape  sickness  or  misfortune  for  a 
year  to  come. 

The  review  requires  a  practiced  military  pen  to  do  it 
justice,  and  I  fear  I  must  give  up  the  attempt.  It  was  a 
"  small  review,"  only  about  twenty-live  thousand  troops  be 
ing  under  arms.  In  the  uniformity  of  size  and  build  of 
the  men,  exactness  of  equipment,  and  precision  of  move 
ment,  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  anything  more  per 
fect.  All  sense  of  the  individual  soldier  was  lost  in  the 
grand  sweep  and  wheel  and  march  of  the  columns.  The 
Circassian  chiefs,  in  their  steel  skull-caps  and  shirts  of  chain 


WINTER-LIFE   IN    ST.    PETERSBURG.  109 

mail  seemed  to  have  ridden  into  their  places  direct  from 
the  Crusades.  The  Cossacks  of  the  Don,  the  Ukraine,  and 
the  Ural,  managed  their  little  brown  or  black  horses  (each 
regiment  having  its  own  color)  so  wonderfully,  that,  as  we 
looked  down  upon  them,  each  line  resembled  a  giant  cater 
pillar,  moving  sidewise  with  its  thousand  legs  creeping  as 
one.  These  novel  and  picturesque  elements  constituted 
the  principal  charm  of  the  spectacle. 

The  passing  away  of  winter  was  signalized  by  an  increase 
of  daylight  rather  than  a  decrease  of  cold.  The  rivers 
were  still  locked,  the  ice-hills  frequented,  the  landscape 
dull  and  dead ;  but  by  the  beginning  of  February  we  could 
detect  signs  of  the  returning  sun.  When  the  sky  was  clear 
(a  thing  of  rarest  occurrence),  there  was  white  light  at  noon 
day,  instead  of  the  mournful  yellow  or  orange  gloom  of  the 
previous  two  months.  After  the  change  had  fairly  set  in, 
it  proceeded  more  and  more  rapidly,  until  our  sunshine  was 
increased  at  the  rate  of  seven  or  eight  minutes  per  day. 
When  the  vernal  equinox  came,  and  we  could  sit  down  to 
dinner  at  sunset,  the  spell  of  death  seemed  to  be  at  last 
broken.  The  fashionable  drive,  of  an  afternoon,  changed 
from  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt  to  the  Palace  Quay  on  the 
Neva ;  the  Summer  Garden  was  cleared  of  snow,  and  its 
statues  one  by  one  unboxed  ;  in  fine  days  we  could  walk 
there,  and  there  coax  back  the  faded  color  to  a  child's 
face.  There,  too,  walked  Alexander  II.,  one  of  the  crowd, 
leading  his  little  daughter  by  the  hand ;  and  thither,  in  a 
plain  little  caleche,  drove  the  Empress,  with  her  youngest 
baby  on  her  lap. 

But  when  the  first  ten  days  of  April  had  passed  and 
there  was  still  no  sign  of  spring,  we  began  to  grow  impa 
tient.  How  often  I  watched  the  hedges  around  the  Michai- 
loffsky  Palace,  knowing  that  the  buds  would  there  first 
swell !  How  we  longed  for  a  shimmer  of  green  under  the 
brown  grass,  an  alder  tassel,  a  flush  of  yellow  on  the  willow 
wands,  a  sight  of  rushing  green  water  !  One  day,  a  week  or 


110  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

so  later,  we  were  engaged  to  dine  on  Vassili  Ostrow.  I  had 
been  busily  occupied  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  when 
we  drove  out  upon  the  square,  I  glanced,  as  usual,  towards 
Peter  the  Great.  Lo!  behind  him  flashed  and  glittered 
the  free,  the  rejoicing  Neva!  Here  and  there  floated  a 
cake  of  sullen  ice,  but  the  great  river  had  bared  his  breast 
to  the  sun,  which  welcomed  him  after  six  months  of  ab 
sence.  The  upper  pontoon-bridges  were  already  spanned 
and  crowded  with  travel,  but  the  lower  one,  carried  away 
before  it  could  be  secured,  had  been  borne  down  by  the 
stream  and  jammed  against  and  under  the  solid  granite 
and  iron  of  the  Nikolai  Bridge.  There  was  a  terrible 
crowd  and  confusion  at  the  latter  place;  all  travel  was 
stopped,  and  we  could  get  neither  forward  nor  backward. 
Presently,  however,  the  Emperor  appeared  upon  the  scene  ; 
order  was  the  instant  result;  the  slow  officials  worked 
with  a  will ;  and  we  finally  reached  our  host's  residence 
half  an  hour  behind  the  time.  As  we  returned,  at  night, 
there  was  twilight  along  the  northern  sky,  and  the  stars 
sparkled  on  the  crystal  bosom  of  the  river. 

This  was  the  snapping  of  winter's  toughest  fetter,  but  it 
was  not  yet  spring.  Before  I  could  detect  any  sign  of  re 
turning  life  in  Nature,  May  had  come.  Then,  little  by 
little,  the  twigs  in  the  marshy  thickets  began  to  show  yel 
low  and  purple  and  brown,  the  lilac-buds  to  swell,  and  some 
blades  of  fresh  grass  to  peep  forth  in  sheltered  places. 
This,  although  we  had  sixteen  hours  of  sunshine,  with  an 
evening  twilight  which  shifted  into  dusky  dawn  under  the 
North  Star!  I  think  it  was  on  the  13th  of  May  that  I 
first  realized  that  the  season  had  changed,  and  for  the  last 
time  saw  the  noble-hearted  ruler  who  is  the  central  figure 
of  these  memories.  The  People's  Festival  —  a  sort  of 
Russian  May-day  —  took  place  at  Catharinenhof,  a  park 
and  palace  of  the  famous  Empress,  near  the  shore  of  the 
Finnish  Gulf.  The  festival,  that  year,  had  an  unusual  sig 
nificance.  On  the  3d  of  March  the  edict  of  Emancipation 


WINTER-LIFE   IN   ST.    PETERSBURG.  Ill 

was  finally  consummated,  and  twenty-two  millions  of  serfs 
became  forever  free :  the  Polish  troubles  and  the  menace 
of  the  Western  powers  had  consolidated  the  restless  nobles, 
the  patient  people,  and  the  plotting  revolutionists,  the  or 
thodox  and  dissenting  sects,  into  one  great  national  party, 
resolved  to  support  the  Emperor  and  maintain  the  integ 
rity  of  the  Russian  territory :  and  thus  the  nation  was 
marvelously  strengthened  by  the  very  blow  intended  to 
cripple  it. 

At  least  a  hundred  thousand  of  the  common  people 
(possibly,  twice  that  number)  were  gathered  together  in 
the  park  of  Catharinenhof.  There  were  booths,  shows, 
flying-horses,  refreshment  saloons,  jugglers,  circuses,  bal 
loons,  and  exhibitions  of  all  kinds :  the  sky  was  fair,  the 
turf  green  and  elastic,  and  the  swelling  birch-buds  scented 
the  air.  I  wandered  about  for  hours,  watching  the  lazy, 
contented  people,  as  they  leaped  and  ran,  rolled  on  the 
grass,  pulled  off  their  big  boots  and  aired  their  naked  legs, 
or  laughed  and  sang  in  jolly  chorus.  About  three  in  the 
afternoon  there  was  a  movement  in  the  main  avenue  of  the 
park.  Hundreds  of  young  mujilcs  appeared,  running  at 
full  speed,  shouting  out,  tossing  their  caps  high  in  the  air, 
and  giving  their  long,  blonde  locks  to  the  wind.  Instantly 
the  crowd  collected  on  each  side,  many  springing  like  cats 
into  the  trees;  booths  and  shows  were  .deserted,  and  an 
immense  multitude  hedged  the  avenue.  Behind  the  leap 
ing,  shouting,  cap-tossing  avant-garde  came  the  P^mperor, 
with  three  sons  and  a  dozen  generals,  on  horseback,  canter 
ing  lightly.  One  cheer  went  up  from  scores  of  thousands; 
hats  darkened  the  air ;  eyes  blazing  with  filial  veneration 
followed  the  stately  figure  of  the  monarch,  as  he  passed  by, 
gratefully  smiling  and  greeting  on  either  hand.  I  stood 
among  the  people  and  watched  their  faces.  1  saw  the 
phlegmatic  Slavonic  features  transformed  with  a  sudden 
and  powerful  expression  of  love,  of  devotion,  of  gratitude, 
and  then  I  knew  that  the  throne  of  Alexander  II.  rested 


112  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

on  a  better  basis  than  tradition  or  force.  I  saw  therein  an 
other  side  of  this  shrewd,  cunning,  patient,  and  childlike 
race,  whom  no  other  European  race  yet  understands  and 
appreciates  —  a  race  yet  in  the  germ,  but  with  qualities 
out  of  which  a  people,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word,  may 
be  developed. 

The  month  of  May  was  dark,  rainy,  and  cold ;  and  when 
I  left  St.  Petersburg,  at  its  close,  everybody  said  that  a  few 
days  would  bring  the  summer.  The  leaves  were  opening, 
almost  visibly  from  hour  to  hour.  Winter  was  really  over, 
and  summer  was  just  at  the  door ;  but  I  found,  upon  reflec 
tion,  that  I  had  not  had  the  slightest  experience  of  spring. 


THE  LITTLE   LAND  OF  APPENZELL. 


THE  traveller  who  first  reaches  the  Lake  of  Constance 
at  Lindau,  or  crosses  that  sheet  of  pale  green  water  to  one 
of  the  ports  on  the  opposite  Swiss  shore,  cannot  fail  to 
notice  the  bold  heights  to  the  southward  which  thrust 
themselves  between  the  opening  of  the  Rhine  Valley  and 
the  long,  undulating  ridges  of  the  Canton  Thurgau.  These 
heights,  broken  by  many  a  dimly  hinted  valley  and  ravine, 
appear  to  be  the  front  of  an  Alpine  table-land.  Houses 
and  villages,  scattered  over  the  steep  ascending  plane, 
present  themselves  distinctly  to  the  eye ;  the  various  green 
of  forest  and  pasture  land  is  rarely  interrupted  by  the  gray 
of  rocky  walls ;  and  the  afternoon  sun  touches  the  topmost 
edge  of  each  successive  elevation  with  a  sharp  outline  of 
golden  light,  through  the  rich  gloom  of  the  shaded  slopes. 
Behind  and  over  this  region  rise  the  serrated  peaks  of  the 
Sentis  Alp,  standing  in  advance  of  the  farther  ice-fields  of 
Glarus,  like  an  outer  fortress,  garrisoned  in  summer  by 
the  merest  forlorn  hope  of  snow. 

The  green  fronts  nearest  the  lake,  and  the  lower  lands 
falling  away  to  the  right  and  left,  belong  to  the  Canton  of 
St.  Gall ;  but  all  aloft,  beyond  that  frontier  marked  by  the 
sinking  sun,  lies  the  Appenzeller  Ldndli,  as  it  is  called  in 
the  endearing  diminutive  of  the  Swiss  German  tongue,  — 
the  Little  Land  of  Appenzell. 

If,  leaving  the  Lake  of  Constance  by  the  Rhine  Valley, 
you  ascend  to  Ragatz  and  the  Baths  of  Pfeffers,  thence 
turn  westward  to  the  Lake  of  Wallenstatt.  cross  into  the 
valley  of  the  Toggenburg,  and  so  make  your  way  northward 
and  eastward  around  the  base  of  the  mountains  back  to 
the  starting  point,  you  will  have  passed  only  through  the 


116  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

territory  of  St.  Gall.  Appenzell  is  an  Alpine  island,  wholly 
surrounded  by  the  former  canton.  From  whatever  side 
you  approach,  you  must  climb  in  order  to  get  into  it.  It  is 
a  nearly  circular  tract,  falling  from  the  south  towards  the 
north,  but  lifted,  at  almost  every  point,  over  the  adjoining 
lands.  This  altitude  and  isolation  is  an  historical  as  well 
as  a  physical  peculiarity.  When  the  Abbots  of  St.  Gall, 
after  having  reduced  the  entire  population  of  what  is  now 
two  cantons  to  serfdom,  became  more  oppressive  as  their 
power  increased,  it  was  the  mountain  shepherds  who,  in 
the  year  1403,  struck  the  first  blow  for  liberty.  Once  free, 
they  kept  their  freedom,  and  established  a  rude  democracy 
on  the  heights,  similar  in  form  and  spirit  to  the  league 
which  the  Forest  Cantons  had  founded  nearly  a  century 
before.  An  echo  from  the  meadow  of  Griitli  reached  the 
wild  valleys  around  the  Sentis,  and  Appenzell,  by  the  mid 
dle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  became  one  of  the  original 
states  out  of  which  Switzerland  has  grown. 

I  find  something  very  touching  and  admirable  in  this 
fragment  of  hardly  noticed  history.  The  people  isolated 
themselves  by  their  own  act,  held  together,  organized  a 
simple  yet  sufficient  government,  and  maintained  their 
sturdy  independence,  while  their  brethren  on  every  side, 
in  the  richer  lands  below  them,  were  fast  bound  in  the 
gyves  of  a  priestly  despotism.  Individual  liberty  seems  to 
be  a  condition  inseparable  from  mountain  life ;  that  once 
attained,  all  other  influences  are  conservative  in  their  char 
acter.  The  cantons  of  Unterwalden,  Schwytz,  Glarus,  and 
Appenzell  retain  to-day  the  simple,  primitive  forms  of 
democracy  which  had  their  origin  in  the  spirit  of  the  peo 
ple  nearly  six  hundred  years  ago. 

Twice  had  I  looked  up  to  the  little  mountain  republic 
from  the  lower  lands  to  the  northward,  with  the  desire  and 
the  determination  to  climb  one  day  the  green  buttresses 
which  support  it  on  every  side  ;  so,  when  I  left  St.  Gall  on 
a  misty  morning,  in  a  little  open  carriage,  bound  for  Trogen, 


THE   LITTLE   LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  117 

it  was  with  the  pleasant  knowledge  that  a  land  almost  un 
known  to  tourists  lay  before  me.  The  only  summer  visit 
ors  are  invalids,  mostly  from  Eastern  Switzerland  and 
Germany,  who  go  up  to  drink  the  whey  of  goats'  milk  ; 
and,  although  the  fabrics  woven  by  the  people  are  known 
to  the  world  of  fashion  in  all  countries,  few  indeed  are  the 
travellers  who  turn  aside  from  the  near  highways.  The 
landlord  in  St.  Gall  told^  me  that  his  guests  were  almost 
wholly  commercial  travellers,  and  my  subsequent  experi 
ence  among  an  unspoiled  people  convinced  me  that  I  was 
almost  a  pioneer  in  the  paths  I  traversed. 

It  was  the  last  Saturday  in  April,  and  at  least  a  month 
too  soon  for  the  proper  enjoyment  of  the  journey  ;  but  on 
the  following  day  the  Landsgemeinde,  or  Assembly  of  the 
People,  was  to  be  held  at  Hundwyl,  in  the  manner  and  with 
the  ceremonies  which  have  been  annually  observed  for  the 
last  three  or  four  hundred  years.  This  circumstance  de 
termined  the  time  of  my  visit.  I  wished  to  study  the 
character  of  an  Alpine  democracy,  so  pure  that  it  has  not 
yet  adopted  even  the  representative  principle,  —  to  be  with 
and  among  a  portion  of  the  Swiss  people  at  a  time  when 
they  are  most  truly  themselves,  rather  than  look  at  them 
through  the  medium  of  conventional  guides,  on  lines  of 
travel  which  have  now  lost  everything  of  Switzerland  ex 
cept  the  scenery. 

There  was  bad  weather  behind,  and,  I  feared,  bad 
weather  before  me.  "  The  sun  will  soon  drive  away  these 
mists,"  said  the  postilion,  "  and  when  we  get  up  yonder, 
you  will  see  what  a  prospect  there  will  be."  In  the  rich 
valley  of  St.  Gall,  out  of  which  we  mounted,  the  scattered 
houses  and  cloud-like  belts  of  blossoming  cherry-trees 
almost  hid  the  green  ;  but  it  sloped  up  and  down,  on 
either  side  of  the  rising  road,  glittering  with  flowers  and 
dew,  in  the  flying  gleams  of  sunshine.  Over  us  hung 
masses  of  gray  cloud,  which  stretched  across  the  valley, 
hooded  the  opposite  hills,  and  sank  into  a  dense  mass  over 


118  BY-WAYS   OF  EUEOPE. 

the  Lake  of  Constance.  As  we  passed  through  this  belt, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  growing  clearness  of  the  upper  sky,  I 
saw  that  my  only  prospect  would  be  in  cloud-land.  After 
many  windings,  along  which  the  blossoms  and  buds  of  the 
fruit-trees  indicated  the  altitude  as  exactly  as  any  barom 
eter,  we  finally  reached  the  crest  of  the  topmost  height,  the 
frontier  of  Appenzell  and  the  battle-field  of  Voglisegg. 
where  the  herdsman  first  measured  his  strength  with  the 
soldier  and  the  monk,  and  was  victorious. 

"Whereabouts  was  the  battle  fought?"  I  asked  the 
postilion. 

"  Up  and  down,  and  all  around  here,"  said  he,  stopping 
the  carriage  at  the  summit. 

I  stood  up  and  looked  to  the  north.  Seen  from  above, 
the  mist  had  gathered  into  dense,  rounded  clouds,  touched 
with  silver  on  their  upper  edges.  They  hung  over  the  lake, 
rolling  into  every  bay  and  spreading  from  shore  to  shore, 
so  that  not  a  gleam  of  water  was  visible ;  but  over  their 
heaving  and  tossing  silence  rose,  far  away,  the  mountains 
of  the  four  German  states  beyond  the  lake.  An  Alp  in 
Vorarlberg  made  a  shining  island  in  the  sky.  The  postil 
ion  was  loud  in  his  regrets,  yet  I  thought  the  picture  best 
as  it  was.  On  the  right  lay  the  land  of  Appenzell  —  not  a 
table-land,  but  a  region  of  mountain  ridge  and  summit,  of 
valley  and  deep,  dark  gorge,  green  as  emerald  up  to  the 
line  of  snow,  and  so  thickly  studded  with  dwellings,  grouped 
or  isolated,  that  there  seemed  to  be  one  scattered  village 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  To  the  south,  over  forests 
of  fir,  the  Sentis  lifted  his  huge  towers  of  rock,  crowned 
with  white,  wintry  pyramids. 

"  Here,  where  we  are,"  said  the  postilion,  "  was  the  firsl 
battle ;  but  there  was  another,  two  years  afterwards,  over 
there,  the  other  side  of  Trogen,  where  the  road  goes  down 
to  the  Rhine.  Stoss  is  the  place,  and  there's  a  chapel  built 
on  the  very  spot.  Duke  Frederick  of  Austria  came  to  help 
the  Abbot  Kuno,  and  the  Appenzellers  were  only  one  to 


THE  LITTLE  LAND   OF  APPENZELL.  119 

ten  against  them.  It  was  a  great  fight,  they  say,  and  the 
women  helped  —  not  with  pikes  and  guns,  but  in  this  way : 
they  put  on  white  shirts,  and  came  out  of  the  woods,  above 
where  the  fighting  was  going  on.  Now,  when  the  Austrians 
and  the  Abbot's  people  saw  them,  they  thought  there  were 
spirits  helping  the  Appenzellers  (the  women  were  all  white, 
you  see,  and  too  far  off  to  show  plainly),  and  so  they  gave 
up  the  fight  after  losing  nine  hundred  knights  and  troopers. 
After  that,  it  was  ordered  that  the  women  should  go  first 
to  the  sacrament,  so  that  no  man  might  forget  the  help  they 
gave  in  that  battle.  And  the  people  go  every  year  to  the 
chapel,  on  the  same  day  when  it  took  place." 

I  looked,  involuntarily,  to  find  some  difference  in  the  pop 
ulation  after  passing  the  frontier.  But  I  had  not  counted 
upon  the  leveling  influence  which  the  same  kind  of  labor 
exercises,  whether  upon  mountain  or  in  valley.  So  long 
as  Appenzell  was  a  land  of  herdsmen,  many  peculiarities 
of  costume,  features,  and  manners  must  have  remained. 
For  a  long  time,  however,  Outer-Rhoden,  as  this  part  of 
the  Canton  is  called,  has  shared  with  that  part  of  St.  Gall 
which  lies  below  it  the  manufacture  of  fine  muslins  and 
embroideries.  There  are  looms  in  almost  every  house,  and 
this  fact  explains  the  density  of  population  and  the  signs 
of  wealth  on  every  hand,  which  would  otherwise  puzzle 
the  stranger.  The  houses  are  not  only  so  near  together 
that  almost  every  man  can  call  to  his  neighbors  and  be 
heard,  but  they  are  large,  stately,  and  even  luxurious,  in 
contrast  to  the  dwellings  of  other  country  people  in  Eu 
rope.  The  average  population  of  Outer-Rhoden  amounts 
to  four  hundred  and  seventy-five  persons  to  the  square 
mile,  being  nearly  double  that  of  the  most  thickly  settled 
portions  of  Holland. 

If  one  could  only  transport  a  few  of  these  houses  to  the 
United  States !  Our  country  architecture  is  not  only  hid 
eous,  but  frequently  unpractical,  being  at  worst  shanties, 
and  at  best  city  residences  set  in  the  fields.  An  Appenzell 


120  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

farmer  lives  in  a  house  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  square,  and 
rarely  less  than  four  stories  in  height  The  two  upper  sto 
ries,  however,  are  narrowed  by  the  high,  steep  roof,  so  that 
the  true  front  of  the  house  is  one  of  the  gables.  The  roof 
projects  at  least  four  feet  on  all  sides,  giving  shelter  to  bal 
conies  of  carved  wood,  which  cross  the  front  under  each 
row  of  windows.  The  outer  walls  are  covered  with  upright, 
overlapping  shingles,  not  more  than  two  or  three  inches 
broad,  and  rounded  at  the  ends,  suggesting  the  scale  armor 
of  ancient  times.  This  covering  secures  the  greatest  warmth  ; 
and  when  the  shingles  have  aquired  from  age  that  rich 
burnt-sienna  tint  which  no  paint  could  exactly  imitate,  the 
effect  is  exceedingly  beautiful.  The  lowest  story  is  gen 
erally  of  stone,  plastered  and  whitewashed.  The  stories  are 
low  (seven  to  eight  feet),  but  the  windows  are  placed  side 
by  side,  and  each  room  is  thoroughly  lighted.  Such  a 
house  is  very  warm,  very  durable,  and,  without  any  appa 
rent  expenditure  of  ornament,  is  externally  so  picturesque 
that  no  ornament  could  improve  it. 

Many  of  the  dwellings,  I  was  told,  could  not  be  built 
with  the  present  means  of  the  population,  at  the  present 
prices  of  labor  and  material.  They  date  from  the  palmy 
days  of  Appenzell  industry,  before  machinery  had  reduced 
the  cost  of  the  finer  fabrics.  Then,  one  successful  manu 
facturer  competed  with  another  in  the  erection  of  showy 
houses,  and  fifty  thousand  francs  (a  large  sum  for  the 
times)  were  frequently  expended  on  a  single  dwelling. 
The  view  of  a  broad  Alpine  landscape,  dotted  all  over 
with  such  beautiful  homes,  from  the  little  shelf  of  green 
hanging  on  the  sides  of  a  rocky  gorge  and  the  strips  of 
sunny  pasture  between  the  ascending  forests,  to  the  very 
summits  of  the  lower  heights  and  the  saddles  between 
them,  was  something  quite  new  in  my  experience. 

Turning  around  the  point  of  Voglisegg,  we  made  for 
Trogen,  one  of  the  two  capitals  of  Outer-Rhoden,  which 
lay  before  us,  across  the  head  of  the  deep  and  wild  St. 


THE   LITTLE    LAXD    OF   APPENZELL.  121 

Martin's  Tobel.  (Tobel  is  an  Appenzell  word,  correspond 
ing  precisely  to  the  gulch  of  California.)  My  postilion 
mounted,  and  the  breathed  horse  trotted  merrily  along  the 
winding  level.  One  stately  house  after  another,  with  a 
clump  of  fruit-trees  on  the  sheltered  side,  and  a  row  of 
blooming  hyacinths  and  wall-flowers  on  the  balcony,  passed 
by  on  either  side.  The  people  we  met  were  sunburnt  and 
ugly,  but  there  was  a  rough  air  of  self-reliance  about  them, 
and  they  gave  me  a  hearty  "  God  greet  you ! "  one  and  all. 
Just  before  reaching  Trogen,  the  postilion  pointed  to  an 
old,  black,  tottering  platform  of  masonry,  ristng  out  of  a 
green  slope  of  turf  on  the  right.  The  grass  around  it 
seemed  ranker  than  elsewhere. 

This  was  the  place  of  execution,  where  capital  criminals 
are  still  beheaded  with  the  sword,  in  the  sight  of  the  people. 
The  postilion  gave  me  an  account,  with  all  the  horrible  de 
tails,  of  the  last  execution,  only  three  years  ago,  —  how  the 
murderer  would  not  confess  until  he  was  brought  out  of 
prison  to  hear  the  bells  tolling  for  his  victim's  funeral, — 
how  thereupon  he  was  sentenced,  and  —  but  I  will  not  re 
late  further.  I  have  always  considered  the  death  penalty 
a  matter  of  policy  rather  than  principle ;  but  the  sight  of 
that  blood-stained  platform,  the  blood-fed  weeds  around  it, 
and  the  vision  of  the  headsman,  in  his  red  mantle,  looking 
down  upon  the  bared  neck  stretched  upon  the  block,  gave 
me  more  horror  of  the  custom  than  all  the  books  and 
speeches  which  have  been  said  and  written  against  it. 

At  Trogen  I  stopped  at  the  principal  inn,  two  centuries 
old,  the  quaint  front  painted  in  fresco,  the  interior  neat  and 
fresh  as  a  new  toy  —  a  very  gem  of  a  house  !  The  floor 
upon  which  I  entered  from  the  street  was  paved  with  flat 
stones.  A  solid  wooden  staircase,  dark  with  age,  led  to  the 
guests'  room  in  the  second  story.  One  side  of  this  room 
was  given  up  to  the  windows,  and  there  was  a  charming 
hexagonal  oriel  in  the  corner.  The  low  ceiling  was  of 
wood,  in  panels,  the  stove  a  massive  tower,  faced  with  por- 


122  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

celain  tiles,  the  floor  polished  nearly  into  whiteness,  and  all 
the  doors,  cup-boards,  and  tables,  made  of  brown  nut-wood, 
gave  an  air  of  warmth  and  elegance  to  the  apartment.  All 
other  parts  of  the  house  were  equally  neat  and  orderly. 
The  hostess  greeted  me  with,  "  Be  you  welcome ! "  and  set 
about  preparing  dinner,  as  it  was  now  nearly  noon.  In  the 
pauses  of  her  work  she  came  into  the  room  to  talk,  and 
was  very  ready  to  give  information  concerning  the  country 
and  people. 

There  were  already  a  little  table  and  three  plates  in  the 
oriel,  and  wKile  I  was  occupied  with  my  own  dinner  I  did 
not  particularly  notice  the  three  persons  who  sat  down  to 
theirs.  The  coarseness  and  harshness  of  their  dialect, 
however,  presently  struck  my  ear.  It  was  pure  Appenzell, 
a  German  made  up  of  singular  and  puzzling  elisions,  and 
with  a  very  strong  guttural  k  and  g,  in  addition  to  the  ch. 
Some  knowledge  of  the  Alemannic  dialect  of  the  Black 
Forest  enabled  me  to  understand  the  subject  of  conversa 
tion,  which,  to  my  surprise,  was  —  the  study  of  the  classics  ! 
It  was  like  hearing  an  Irishman  talk  of  Shelley's  "  Witch 
of  Atlas  "  in  the  broadest  Tipperary  brogue.  I  turned  and 
looked  at  the  persons.  They  were  well  dressed  young  men, 
evidently  the  best  class  of  Appenzellers  —  possibly  tutors 
in  the  schools  of  Trogen.  Their  speech  in  no  wise  differed 
from  that  of  the  common  herdsmen,  except  that  they  were 
now  and  then  obliged  to  use  words  which,  being  unknown 
to  the  people,  had  escaped  mutilation.  I  entered  into  con 
versation,  to  ascertain  whether  true  German  was  not  pos 
sible  to  them,  since  they  must  needs  read  and  write  the 
language  ;  but,  although  they  understood  me,  they  could 
only  partly,  and  with  evident  difficulty,  lay  aside  their  own 
patois.  I  found  this  to  be  the  case  everywhere  throughout 
the  Canton.  It  is  a  circumstance  so  unusual,  that,  in  spite 
of  myself,  associating  a  rude  dialect  with  ignorance,  I  was 
always  astonished  when  those  who  spoke  it  showed  culture 
and  knowledge  of  the  world. 


THE   LITTLE   LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  123 

The  hostess  provided  me  with  a  guide  and  pack-bearer, 
and  I  set  out  on  foot  across  the  country  towards  Hundwyl. 
This  guide,  Jakob  by  name,  made  me  imagine  that  I  had 
come  among  a  singular  people.  He  was  so  short  that  he 
could  easily  walk  under  my  arm  ;  his  gait  was  something 
between  a  roll  and  a  limp,  although  he  stoutly  disclaimed 
lameness  ;  he  laughed  whenever  I  spoke  to  him,  and  an 
swered  in  a  voice  which  seemed  the  cuneiform  character 
put  into  sound.  First,  there  was  an  explosion  of  gutturals, 
and  then  came  a  loud  trumpet-tone,  something  like  the 
Honk  !  honk  !  of  wild  geese.  Yet,  when  he  placed  his  squat 
figure  behind  a  tavern  table,  and  looked  at  me  quietly  with 
his  mouth  shut,  he  was  both  handsome  and  distinguished 
in  appearance.  We  walked  two  miles  together  before  I 
guessed  how  to  unravel  his  speech.  It  is  almost  as  difficult 
to  learn  a  dialect  as  a  new  language,  and  but  for  the  key 
which  the  Alemannic  gave  me,  I  should  have  been  utterly 
at  sea.  Who,  for  instance,  could  ever  guess  that  a?Ma  g'si, 
pronounced  "  amaxi "  (the  x  representing  a  desperate  gut 
tural),  really  stands  for  einen  Mann  gewesen  ? 

The  road  was  lively  with  country  people,  many  of  whom 
were  travelling  in  our  own  direction.  Those  we  met  in 
variably  addressed  us  with  "God  greet  you  !  "  or  "  Guat 
ti!"  which  it  was  easy  to  translate  into  "Good-day!" 
Some  of  the  men  were  brilliant  in  scarlet  jackets,  with 
double  rows  of  square  silver  buttons,  and  carried  swords 
under  their  arms  ;  they  were  bound  for  the  Landsgemeinde, 
whither  the  law  of  the  Middle  Ages  still  obliges  them  to 
go  armed.  When  I  asked  Jakob  if  he  would  accompany 
me  as  far  as  Hundwyl,  he  answered,  "  I  can't ;  I  daren't 
go  there  without  a  black  dress,  and  my  sword,  and  a  cylin 
der  hat." 

The  wild  Tobels,  opening  downward  to  the  Lake  of  Con 
stance,  which  now  shimmered  afar  through  the  gaps,  were 
left  behind  us,  and  we  passed  westward  along  a  broken, 
irregular  valley.  The  vivid  turf  was  sown  with  all  the 


124  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

flowers  of  spring,  —  primrose,  violet,  buttercup,  anemone, 
and  veronica,  —  faint,  but  sweetest-odored,  and  the  heralds 
of  spring  in  all  lands.  So  I  gave  little  heed  to  the  weird 
lines  of  cloud,  twisting  through  and  between  the  severed 
pyramids  of  the  Sentis,  as  if  weaving  the  woof  of  storms. 
The  scenery  was  entirely  lovely,  and  so  novel  in  its  popu 
lation  and  the  labor  which,  in  the  long  course  of  time,  had 
effaced  its  own  hard  traces,  turning  the  mountains  into 
lifted  lawns  and  parks  of  human  delight,  that  my  own  slow 
feet  carried  me  through  it  too  rapidly.  We  must  have 
passed  a  slight  water-shed  somewhere,  though  I  observed 
none  ;  for  the  road  gradually  fell  towards  another  region 
of  deeply  cloven  Tobels,  with  snowy  mountains  beyond. 
The  green  of  the  landscape  was  so  brilliant  and  uniform, 
under  the  cold  gray  sky,  that  it  almost  destroyed  the  per 
spective,  which  rather  depended  on  the  houses  and  the 
scattered  woods  of  fir. 

On  a  ridge,  overlooking  all  this  region,  was  the  large 
village  of  Teufen,  nearly  as  grand  as  Trogen  in  its  archi 
tecture.  Here  Jakob,  whose  service  went  no  further,  con 
ducted  me  to  the  "  Pike  "  inn,  and  begged  the  landlady  to 
furnish  me  with  "  a'  Ma' "  in  his  place.  We  had  refresh 
ments  together,  and  took  leave  with  many  shakings  of  the 
hand  and  mutual  wishes  of  good  luck.  The  successor  was 
an  old  fellow  of  seventy,  who  had  been  a  soldier  in  Hol 
land,  and  who  with  proper  exertion  could  make  his  speech 
intelligible.  The  people  nowhere  inquired  after  my  busi 
ness  or  nationality.  When  the  guide  made  the  latter 
known,  they  almost  invariably  said,  "  But,  of  course,  you 
were  born  in  Appenzell  ?  "  The  idea  of  a  traveller  coming 
among  them,  at  least  during  this  season  of  the  year,  did 
not  enter  their  heads.  In  Teufen,  the  large  and  hand 
some  houses,  the  church  and  schools,  led  me,  foolishly,  to 
hope  for  a  less  barbarous  dialect ;  but  no,  it  was  the  same 
thing  everywhere. 

The  men  in  black,  with  swords  under  their  arms,  in- 


THE   LITTLE   LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  125 

creased  in  number  as  we  left  the  village.  They  were  prob 
ably  from  the  furthest  parts  of  the  Canton,  and  were  thus 
abridging  the  morrow's  journey.  The  most  of  them,  how 
ever  turned  aside  from  the  road,  and  made  their  way  to 
one  farm-house  or  another.  I  was  tempted  to  follow  their 
example,  as  I  feared  that  the  little  village  of  Hundwyl 
would  be  crowded.  But  there  was  still  time  to  claim  pri 
vate  hospitality,  even  if  this  should  be  the  case,  so  we 
marched  steadily  down  the  valley.  The  Sitter,  a  stream 
fed  by  the  Sentis,  now  roared  below  us,  between  high, 
rocky  walls,  which  are  spanned  by  an  iron  bridge,  two 
hundred  feet  above  the  water.  The  roads  of  Outer- 
Rhoden,  built  and  kept  in  order  by  the  people,  are  most 
admirable.  This  little  population  of  forty-eight  thousand 
souls  has  within  the  last  fifteen  years  expended  seven  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars  on  means  of  communication.  Since 
the  people  govern  themselves,  and  regulate  their  expenses, 
and  consequently  their  taxation,  their  willingness  to  bear 
such  a  burden  is  a  lesson  to  other  lands. 

After  crossing  the  airy  bridge,  our  road  climbed  along 
the  opposite  side  of  the  Tobel,  to  a  village  on  a  ridge  thrust 
out  from  the  foot  of  the  Hundwyl  Alp,  beyond  which  we 
lost  sight  of  Teufen  and  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Sitter. 
We  were  now  in  the  valley  of  the  Urnasch,  and  a  walk  of 
two  miles  more  brought  us  to  the  village  of  Hundwyl.  I  was 
encouraged,  on  approaching  the  little  place,  by  seeing  none 
except  the  usual  signs  of  occupation.  There  was  a  great 
new  tank  before  the  fountain,  and  two  or  three  fellows  in 
scarlet  vests  were  filling  their  portable  tubs  for  the  even 
ing's  supply ;  a  few  children  came  to  the  doors  to  stare  at 
me,  but  there  was  no  sign  that  any  other  stranger  had 
arrived. 

"  I'll  take  you  to  the  Crown,"  said  the  guide ;  "  all  the 
Landamanner  will  be  there  in  the  morning,  and  the  music ; 
and  you'll  see  what  our  Appenzell  government  is."  Tho 
landlady  gave  me  a  welcome,  and  the  promise  of  a  lodging, 


126  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

whereupon  I  sat  down  in  peace,  received  the  greetings  of 
all  the  members  of  the  family,  as  they  came  and  went,  and 
made  myself  familiar  with  their  habits.  There  was  only 
one  other  guest  in  the  house,  —  a  man  of  dignified  face 
and  intellectual  head,  who  carried  a  sword  tied  up  with  an 
umbrella,  and  must  be,  I  supposed,  one  of  the  chief  offi 
cials.  He  had  so  much  the  air  of  a  reformer  or  a  philoso 
pher  that  the  members  of  a  certain  small  faction  at  home 
might  have  taken  hirn  for  their  beloved  W.  P. ;  others 
might  have  detected  in  him  a  resemblance  to  that  true 
philanthropist  and  gentleman  W.  L.  G. ;  and  the  believers 
in  the  divinity  of  slavery  would  have  accepted  him  as 

Bishop .     As  no  intt  eductions  are  required  in  Ap- 

penzell,  I  addressed  myself  to  him,  hoping  to  open  a  prof 
itable  acquaintance ;  but  it  was  worse  than  Coleridge's  ex 
perience  with  the  lover  of  dumplings.  His  sentiments 
may  have  been  elevated  and  refined,  for  aught  I  knew,  but 
what  were  they?  My  trumpeter  Jakob  was  more  intel 
ligible  than  he ;  his  upper  teeth  were  gone,  and  the  muti 
lated  words  were  mashed  out  of  all  remaining  shape  against 
his  gums.  Then  he  had  the  singular  habit  of  ejaculating 
the  word  Ja!  (Yes!)  in  three  different  ways,  after  answer 
ing  each  of  my  questions.  First,  a  decided,  confirmatory 
Ja  !  then  a  pause,  followed  by  a  slow,  interrogative  Ja  ?  as 
if  it  were  the  echo  of  some  mental  doubt ;  and  finally,  after 
a  much  longer  pause,  a  profoundly  melancholy,  despond 
ing,  conclusive  Ja-a-a  !  sighed  forth  from  the  very  bottom 
of  his  lungs.  Even  when  I  only  said,  "  Good-morning ! '» 
the  next  day,  these  ejaculations  followed,  in  the  same  order 
of  succession. 

One  may  find  a  counterpart  to  this  habit  in  the  Wa'al 
of  the  Yankee,  except  that  the  latter  never  is,  nor  could  it 
well  be,  so  depressing  to  hear  as  the  Ja  of  Appenzell. 

In  the  evening  a  dozen  persons  gathered  around  one  of 
the  long  tables,  and  drank  a  pale,  weak  cider,  made  of  ap 
ples  and  pears,  and  called  "  Most."  I  gave  to  one,  with 


THE   LITTLE   LAND   OF   APPENZELL.  127 

whom  I  found  I  could  converse  most  easily,  a  glass  of  red 
wine,  whereupon  he  said,  "  It  is  very  impudent  in  me  to 
take  it." 

Upon  asking  the  same  person  how  it  was  that  I  could 
understand  him  so  much  more  readily  than  the  others,  he 
answered,  "  O,  I  can  talk  the  written  language  when  I  try, 
but  these  others  can't." 

"  Here,"  said  I,  pointing  to  the  philosopher,  "  is  one  who 
is  quite  incomprehensible." 

"  So  he  is  to  me." 

They  were  all  anxious  to  know  whether  our  American 
troubles  were  nearly  over ;  whether  the  President  had  the 
power  to  do  further  harm  (he  had  too  much  power,  they 
all  thought)  ;  and  whether  our  Congress  could  carry  out 
its  plan  of  reconstruction.  Lincoln  they  said,  was  the  best 
man  we  ever  had ;  when  the  play  of  "  Lincoln's  Death " 
was  performed  in  the  theatre  at  St.  Gall,  a  great  many 
Appenzellers  hired  omnibuses  and  went  down  from  the 
mountains  to  see  it. 

I  was  aroused  at  daybreak  by  the  chiming  of  bells,  and 
soon  afterwards  muskets  began  to  crack,  near  and  far. 
Then  there  were  noises  all  over  the  house,  and  presently 
what  seemed  to  be  a  procession  of  horses  or  elephants  be 
gan  to  thunder  up  and  down  the  wooden  stairs.  In  vain  I 
tried  to  snatch  the  last  and  best  morning  nap  ;  there  was 
no  end  to  the  racket.  So  I  arose,  dressed,  and  went  forth 
to  observe.  The  inn  was  already  transformed,  from  top  to 
bottom,  into  a  vast  booth  for  meat  and  drink.  Bedding 
and  all  other  furniture  had  disappeared  ;  every  room,  and 
even  the  open  hall  on  each  story,  was  filled  with  tables, 
benches,  and  chairs.  My  friend  of  the  previous  evening, 
who  was  going  about  with  a  white  apron  on  and  sleeves 
rolled  up,  said  to  me :  u  I  am  to  be  one  of  the  waiters  to 
day.  We  have  already  made  places  for  six  hundred." 

There  were  at  least  a  dozen  other  amateur  waiters  on 
hand  and  busy.  The  landlord  wore  a  leathern  apron,  and 


128  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

went  from  room  to  room,  blowing  into  the  hole  of  a  wooden 
tap  which  he  carried  in  his  hand,  as  if  thereby  to  collect 
his  ideas.  A  barrel  of  red  and  a  barrel  of  white  wine 
stood  on  trestles  in  the  guests'  room,  and  they  were  already 
filling  the  schoppins  by  hundreds  and  ranging  them  on 
shelves,  —  honestly  filling,  not  as  lager-bier  is  filled  in  New 
York,  one  third  foam,  but  waiting  until  the  froth  subsided, 
and  then  pouring  to  the  very  brim.  In  the  kitchen  there 
were  three  fires  blazing,  stacks  of  Bratwurst  on  the  tables, 
great  kettles  for  the  sour-krout  and  potatoes ;  and  eggs,  let 
tuce,  and  other  finer  viands,  for  the  dignitaries,  on  the 
shelves.  "  Good  morning,"  said  the  landlady,  as  I  looked 
into  this  sanctuary,  "  you  see  we  are  ready  for  them." 

While  I  was  taking  my  coffee,  the  landlord  called  the 
waiters  together,  gave  each  a  bag  of  small  money  for 
change,  and  then  delivered  a  short,  practical  address  con 
cerning  their  duties  for  the  day,  —  who  were  to  be  trusted 
and  who  not,  how  to  keep  order  and  prevent  impatience, 
and,  above  all,  how  to  preserve  a  proper  circulation,  in  or 
der  that  the  greatest  possible  number  of  persons  might  be 
entertained.  He  closed  with  :  "  Once  again,  take  notice 
and  don't  forget,  every  one  of  you, —  Most  10  rappen  (2 
cents),  bread  10,  Wurst  15,  tongue  10,  wine  25  and  40,"  etc. 

In  the  village  there  were  signs  of  preparation,  but  not  a 
dozen  strangers  had  arrived.  Wooden  booths  had  been 
built  against  some  of  the  houses,  and  the  owners  thereof 
were  arranging  their  stores  of  gingerbread  and  coarse  con 
fectionery  ;  on  the  open,  grassy  square,  in  front  of  the  par 
sonage,  stood  a  large  platform,  with  a  handsome  railing 
around  it,  but  the  green  slope  of  the  hill  in  front  was  as 
deserted  as  an  Alpine  pasture.  Looking  westward  over 
the  valley,  however,  I  could  already  see  dark  figures  mov 
ing  along  the  distant  paths.  The  morning  was  overcast, 
but  the  Hundwyl  Alp,  streaked  with  snow,  stood  clear,  and 
there  was  a  prospect  of  good  weather  for  the  important 
clay.  As  I  loitered  about  the  village,  talking  with  the 


THE   LITTLE    LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  129 

people,  who,  busy  as  they  were,  always  found  time  for  a 
friendly  word,  the  movement  in  the  landscape  increased. 
Out  of  firwoods,  and  over  the  ridges  and  out  of  the  fold 
ings  of  the  hills,  came  the  Appenzellers,  growing  into 
groups,  and  then  into  lines,  until  steady  processions  began 
to  enter  Hundwyl  by  every  road.  Every  man  was  dressed 
in  black,  with  a  rusty  stove-pipe  hat  on  his  head,  and  a 
sword  and  umbrella  in  his  hand  or  under  his  arm. 

From  time  to  time  the  church  bells  chimed  ;  a  brass 
band  played  the  old  melodies  of  the  Canton  ;  on  each  side 
of  the  governing  Landamman's  place  on  the  platform  stood 
a  huge  two-handed  sword,  centuries  old,  and  the  temper  of 
the  gathering  crowd  became  earnest  and  solemn.  Six  old 
men,  armed  with  pikes,  walked  about  with  an  air  of  im 
portance  :  their  duty  was  to  preserve  order,  but  they  had 
nothing  to  do.  Policeman  other  than  these,  or  soldier,  was 
not  to  be  seen  ;  each  man  was  a  part  of  the  government, 
and  felt  his  responsibility.  Carriages,  light  carts,  and  hay 
wagons,  the  latter  filled  with  patriotic  singers,  now  began 
to  arrive,  and  I  took  my  way  to  the  "  Crown,"  in  order  to 
witness  the  arrival  of  the  members  of  the  Council. 

In  order  to  make  the  proceedings  of  the  day  more  intel 
ligible,  I  must  first  briefly  sketch  certain  features  of  this 
little  democracy,  which  it  possesses  in  common  with  three 
other  mountain  cantons  —  the  primitive  forms  which  the 
republican  principle  assumed  in  Switzerland.  In  the  first 
place  the  government  is  only  representative  so  far  as  is  re 
quired  for  its  permanent,  practical  operation.  The  highest 
power  in  the  land  is  the  Landsgemeinde,  or  General  Assem 
bly  of  the  People,  by  whom  the  members  of  the  Executive 
Council  are  elected,  and  who  alone  can  change,  adopt,  or 
abolish  any  law.  All  citizens  above  the  age  of  eighteen, 
and  all  other  Swiss  citizens  after  a  year's  residence  in  the 
Canton,  are  not  only  allowed,  but  required,  to  attend  the 
Landsgemeinde.  There  is  a  penalty  for  non-attendance. 
Outer-Rhoden  contains  fortv-eicjht  thousand  inhabitants, 


130  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

of  whom  eleven  thousand  are  under  obligations  to  be  pres 
ent  and  vote,  from  beginning:  to  end  of  the  deliberations. 

O  ^ 

In  Glarus    and  Untenvalden,  where   the    population  is 
smaller,  the  right  of  discussion   is  still   retained  by  these 
assemblies,  but  in  Appenzell  it  has  been  found  expedient 
to  abolish   it.     Any  change    in   the  law,  however,  is  first 
discussed  in  public  meetings  in  the  several  communities, 
then  put  into  form  by  the  Council,  published,  read  from  all 
the  pulpits  for  a  month  previous  to  the  coming  together 
of  the  Lands gemeinde,  and  then  voted  upon.     But  if  the 
Council  refuses  to  act  upon  the  suggestion  of  any  citizen 
whomsoever,  and  he  honestly  considers   the  matter  one  of 
importance,  he  is  allowed  to  propose  it  directly  to  the  peo 
ple,  provided  he   do  so  briefly  and  in  an  orderly  manner. 
The  Council,  which  may  be   called   the  executive  power, 
consists  of  the  governing  Landamman  and  six  associates, 
one  of  whom  has  the   functions  of   treasurer,  another  of 
military  commander,  —  in  fact,  a  ministry  on  a  small  scale» 
The  service  of  the  persons  elected  to  the  Council  is  obli 
gatory,  and  they  receive  no  salaries.     There  is,  it  is  true,  a 
secondary  Council,  composed  of  the  first,  and  representa 
tives  of  the  communities,  one  for  every  thousand  inhabit 
ants,  in  order  to  administer  more  intelligently  the  various 
departments  of  education,  religion,  justice,  roads,  the  mili 
tia  system,  the  poor,  etc. ;  but  the  Assembly  of  the  People 
can  at  any  time  reject  or  reverse  its  action.     All  citizens 
are  not  only  equal  before  the  law,  but  are  assured  liberty 
of  conscience,  of  speech,  and  of  labor.     The  right  of  sup 
port  only  belongs  to  those  who  are  born  citizens  of  the 
Canton.     The  old  restriction  of  the  Heimaihsrecht, —  the 
claim  to  be  supported  at  the  expense  of  the  community  in 
case  of  need,  —  narrow  and  illiberal  as  it  seems  to  us,  pre 
vails  all  over  Switzerland.     In  Appenzell  a  stranger  can 
only  acquire  the  right,  which  is  really  the  right  of  citizen 
ship,  by  paying  twelve  hundred    francs  into  the  cantonal 
treasury. 


THE   LITTLE   LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  131 

The  governing  Landamman  is  elected  for  two  years,  but 
the  other  members  of  the  Council  may  be  reflected  from 
year  to  year,  as  often  as  the  people  see  fit.  The  obligation 
to  serve,  therefore,  may  sometimes  seriously  incommode 
the  person  chosen  ;  he  cannot  resign,  and  his  only  chance 
of  escape  lies  in  leaving  the  Canton  temporarily,  and  pub 
lishing  his  intention  of  quitting  it  altogether  in  case  the 
people  refuse  to  release  him  from  office!  This  year,  it 
happened  that  two  members  of  the  Council  had  already 
taken  this  step,  while  three  others  had  appealed  to  the 
people  not  to  reelect  them.  The  Lands ge  me  inde  at  Hun- 
dwyl  was  to  decide  upon  all  these  applications,  and  there 
fore  promised  to  be  of  more  than  usual  interest.  The 
people  had  had  time  to  consider  the  matter,  and  it  was  sup 
posed  had  generally  made  up  their  minds  ;  yet  I  found  no 
one  willing  to  give  me  a  hint  of  their  action  in  advance. 

The  two  remaining  members  presently  made  their  ap 
pearance,  accompanied  by  the  Chancellor,  to  whom  I  was 
recommended.  The  latter  kindly  offered  to  accompany  me 
to  the  parsonage,  the  windows  of  which,  directly  in  the 
rear  of  the  platform,  would  enable  me  to  hear,  as  well  as 
see  the  proceedings.  The  clergyman,  who  was  preparing 
for  the  service  which  precedes  the  opening  of  the  Lands 
gemeinde,  showed  me  the  nail  upon  which  hung  the  key  of 
the  study,  and  gave  me  liberty  to  take  possession  at  any 
time.  The  clock  now  struck  nine,  and  a  solemn  peal  of 
bells  announced  the  time  of  service.  A  little  procession 
formed  in  front  of  the  inn ;  first  the  music,  then  the  cler 
gyman  and  the  few  members  of  the  government,  bare 
headed,  and  followed  by  the  two  Weilels  (apparitors),  who 
wore  long  mantles,  the  right  half  white  and  the  left  half 
black.  The  old  pikemen  walked  on  either  side.  The 
people  uncovered  as  the  dignitaries  took  their  way  around 
the  church  to  the  chancel  door ;  then  as  many  as  could  be 
accommodated  entered  at  the  front. 

I  entered  with  them,  taking  my  place  on  the  men's  side, 


132  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

—  the  sexes  being  divided,  as  is  usual  in  Germany.  Aftei 
the  hymn,  iu  which  boy's  voices  were  charmingly  heard, 
and  the  prayer,  the  clergyman  took  a  text  from  Corin 
thians,  and  proceeded  to  preach  a  good,  sound  political 
sermon,  which,  nevertheless,  did  not  in  the  least  shock  the 
honest  piety  of  his  hearers.  I  noticed  with  surprise  that 
most  of  the  men  put  on  their  hats  at  the  close  of  the 
prayer.  Only  once  did  they  remove  them  afterwards,  — 
when  the  clergyman,  after  describing  the  duties  before 
them,  and  the  evils  and  difficulties  which  beset  every  good 
work,  suddenly  said,  "  Let  us  pray  to  God  to  help  and 
direct  us !  "  and  interpolated  a  short  prayer  in  the  midst 
of  his  sermon.  The  effect  was  all  the  more  impressive, 
because,  though  so  unexpected,  it  was  entirely  simple  and 
natural.  These  democrats  of  Appenzell  have  not  yet  made 
the  American  discovery  that  pulpits  are  profaned  by  any 
utterance  of  national  sentiment,  or  any  application  of  Chris 
tian  doctrine  to  politics.  They  even  hold  their  municipal 
elections  in  the  churches,  and  consider  that  the  act  of 
voting  is  thereby  solemnized,  not  that  the  holy  building  is 
desecrated !  But  then,  you  will  say,  this  is  the  democracy 
of  the  Middle  Ages. 

When  the  service  was  over,  I  could  scarcely  make  my 
way  through  the  throng  which  had  meanwhile  collected. 
The  sun  had  come  out  hot  above  the  Hundwyl  Alp,  and 
turned  the  sides  of  the  valley  into  slopes  of  dazzling  sheen. 
Already  every  table  in  the  inns  was  filled,  every  window 
crowded  with  heads,  the  square  a  dark  mass  of  voters  of 
all  ages  and  classes,  lawyers  and  clergymen  being  packed 
together  with  grooms  and  brown  Alpine  herdsmen  ;  and, 
after  the  government  had  been  solemnly  escorted  to  its 
private  chamber,  four  musicians  in  antique  costume  an 
nounced,  with  drum  and  fife,  the  speedy  opening  of  the 
Assembly.  But  first  came  the  singing  societies  of  Heri- 
sau,  and  forced  their  way  into  the  centre  of  the  throng, 
where  they  sang,  simply  yet  grandly,  the  songs  of  Appen- 


THE   LITTLE   LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  133 

zell.  The  people  listened  with  silent  satisfaction ;  not  a 
man  seemed  to  think  of  applauding. 

I  took  my  place  in  the  pastor's  study,  and  inspected  the 
crowd.  On  the  steep  slope  of  the  village  square  and  the 
rising  field  beyond,  more  than  ten  thousand  men  were 
gathered,  packed  as  closely  as  they  could  stand.  The  law 
requires  them  to  appear  armed  and  "  respectably  dressed." 
The  short  swords,  very  much  like  our  marine  cutlasses, 
which  they  carried,  were  intended  for  show  rather  than 
service.  Very  few  wore  them  :  sometimes  they  were  tied 
up  with  umbrellas,  but  generally  carried  loose  in  the  hand 
or  under  the  arm.  The  rich  manufacturers  of  Trogen  and 
Ilerisau  and  Teufen  had  belts  and  silver-mounted  dress- 
swords.  With  scarce  an  exception,  every  man  was  habited 
in  black,  and  wore  a  stove-pipe  hat,  but  the  latter  was  in 
most  cases  brown  and  battered.  Both  circumstances  were 
thus  explained  to  me  :  as  the  people  vote  with  the  uplifted 
hand,  the  hat  must  be  of  a  dark  color,  as  a  background,  to 
bring  out  the  hands  more  distinctly  ;  then,  since  rain  would 
spoil  a  good  hat  (and  it  rains  much  at  this  season),  they 
generally  take  an  old  one.  I  could  now  understand  the 
advertisements  of  "second  hand  cylinder  hats  for  sale," 
which  I  had  noticed,  the  clay  before,  in  the  newspapers  of 
the  Canton.  The  slope  of  the  hill  was  such  that  the  hats 
of  the  lower  ranks  concealed  the  faces  of  those  imme 
diately  behind,  and  the  assembly  was  the  darkest  and  den 
sest  I  ever  beheld.  Here  and  there  the  top  of  a  scarlet 
waistcoat  flashed  out  of  the  cloud  with  astonishing  bril 
liancy. 

With  solemn  music,  and  attended  by  the  apparitors,  in 
their  two  colored  mantles,  and  the  ancient  pikemen,  the 
few  officials  ascended  the  platform.  The  chief  of  the  two 
Landammanner  present  took  his  station  in  front,  between 
the  two-handed  swords,  and  began  to  address  the  assembly* 
Suddenly  a  dark  cloud  seemed  to  roll  away  from  the  faces 
of  the  people  ;  commencing  in  front  of  the  platform,  and 


134  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

spreading  rapidly  to  the  edges  of  the  compact  throng,  the 
hats  disappeared,  and  the  ten  thousand  faces,  in  the  full 
light  of  the  sun,  blended  into  a  ruddy  mass.  But  no  ;  each 
head  retained  its  separate  character,  and  the  most  surpris 
ing  circumstance  of  the  scene  was  the  distinctness  with 
which  each  human  being  held  fast  to  his  individuality  in 
the  multitude.  Nature  has  drawn  no  object  with  so  firm  a 
hand,  nor  painted  it  with  such  tenacious  clearness  of  color, 
as  the  face  of  man.  The  inverted  crescent  of  sharp  light 
had  a  different  curve  on  each  individual  brow  before  me ; 
the  little  illuminated  dot  on  the  end  of  the  nose  under  it 
hinted  at  the  form  of  the  nostrils  in  shadow.  As  the  hats 
had  before  concealed  the  faces,  so  now  each  face  was  re 
lieved  against  the  breast  of  the  man  beyond,  and  in  front 
of  me  were  thousands  of  heads  to  be  seen,  touching  each 
other  like  so  many  ovals  drawn  on  a  dark  plane. 

The  address  was  neither  so  brief  nor  so  practical  as  it 
might  have  been.  Earnest,  well  meant,  and  apparently 
well  received,  there  was  nevertheless  much  in  it  which  the 
plain,  semi-educated  weavers  and  Alpadores  in  the  assem 
bly  could  not  possibly  have  comprehended ;  as,  for  instance, 
"  May  a  garland  of  confidence  be  twined  around  your  de 
liberations  !"  At  the  close,  the  speaker  said,  "Let  us 
pray ! "  and  for  a  few  moments  there  were  bowed  heads 
and  utter  silence.  The  first  business  was  the  financial 
report  for  the  year,  which  had  been  printed  and  distributed 
among  the  people  weeks  before.  They  were  now  asked 
whether  they  would  appoint  a  commission  to  test  its  accu 
racy,  but  they  unanimously  declined  to  do  so.  The  ques 
tion  was  put  by  one  of  the  apparitors,  who  first  removed 
his  cocked  hat,  and  cried,  in  a  tremendous  voice,  "  Faith 
ful  and  beloved  fellow-citizens,  and  brethren  of  the  Union  ! " 

Now  came  the  question  of  releasing  the  tired  Landam- 
nianner  of  the  previous  year  from  office.  The  first  appli 
cation  in  order  was  that  of  the  governing  Landamman, 
Dr.  Ziircher.  The  people  voted  directly  thereupon  ;  there 


THE   LITTLE   LAND    OF   A1TENZELL.  135 

was  a  strong  division  of  sentiment,  but  the  majority  allowed 
him  to  resign.  His  place  was  therefore  to  be  filled  at  once. 
The  names  of  candidates  were  called  out  by  the  crowd. 
There  were  six  in  all ;  and  as  both  the  members  of  the 
Council  were  among  them,  the  latter  summoned  six  well- 
known  citizens  upon  the  platform,  to  decide  the  election. 
The  first  vote  reduced  the  number  of  candidates  to  two. 
and  the  voting  was  then  repeated  until  one  of  these  re 
ceived  an  undoubted  majority.  Dr.  Roth,  of  Teufen,  was  the 
fortunate  man.  As  soon  as  the  decision  was  announced, 
several  swords  were  held  up  in  the  crowd  to  indicate 
where  the  new  governor  was  to  be  found.  The  musicians 
and  pikemen  made  a  lane  to  him  through  the  multitude, 
and  he  was  conducted  to  the  platform  with  the  sound  of 
fife  and  drum.  He  at  once  took  his  place  between  the 
swords,  and  made  a  brief  address,  which  the  people  heard 
with  uncovered  heads.  He  did  not  yet,  however,  assume 
the  black  silk  mantle  which  belongs  to  his  office.  He  was 

S 

a  man  of  good  presence,  prompt,  and  self-possessed  in  man 
ner,  and  conducted  the  business  of  the  day  very  success 
fully. 

The  election  of  the  remaining  members  occupied  much 
more  time.  All  the  five  applicants  were  released  from 
service,  and  with  scarcely  a  dissenting  hand :  wherein,  I 
thought,  the  people  showed  very  good  sense.  The  case  of 
one  of  these  officials,  Herr  Euler,  was  rather  hard.  He 
was  the  Landesscickelmeister  (Treasurer),  and  the  law  makes 
him  personally  responsible  for  every  farthing  which  passes 
through  his  hands.  Having,  with  the  consent  of  the  Coun 
cil,  invested  thirty  thousand  francs  in  a  banking-house  at 
Kheineck,  the  failure  of  the  house  obliged  him  to  pay  this 
sum  out  of  his  own  pocket.  He  did  so,  and  then  made 
preparations  to  leave  the  Canton  in  case  his  resignation 
was  not  accepted. 

For  most  of  the  places  from  ten  to  fourteen  candidates 
were  named,  and  when  these  were  reduced  to  two,  nearly 


136  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

equally  balanced  in  popular  favor,  the  voting  became  very 
spirited.  The  apparitor,  who  was  chosen  on  account  of  his 
strength  of  voice  (the  candidates  for  the  office  must  be 
tested  in  this  respect),  had  hard  work  that  day.  The  same 
formula  must  be  repeated  before  every  vote,  in  this  wise : 
"  Herr  Landamman,  gentlemen,  faithful  and  beloved  fellow- 
citizens  and  brethren  of  the  Union,  if  it  seems  good  to  you 
to  choose  so-and-so,  as  your  treasurer  for  the  coming  year, 
so  lift  up  your  hands!"  Then,  all  over  the  dark  mass, 
thousands  of  hands  flew  into  the  sunshine,  rested  a  mo 
ment,  and  gradually  sank  with  a  fluttering  motion,  which 
made  me  think  of  leaves  flying  from  a  hill-side  forest  in 
the  autumn  winds.  As  each  election  was  decided,  and  the 
choice  was  announced,  swords  were  lifted  to  show  the  loca 
tion  of  the  new  official  in  the  crowd,  and  he  was  then 
brought  upon  the  platform  with  fife  and  drum.  Nearly 
two  hours  elapsed  before  the  gaps  were  filled,  and  the  gov 
ernment  was  again  complete. 

Then  followed  the  election  of  judges  for  the  judicial  dis 
tricts,  who,  in  most  cases,  were  almost  unanimously  re- 
elected.  These  are  repeated  from  year  to  year,  so  long  as 
the  people  are  satisfied.  Nearly  all  the  citizens  of  Outer- 
Rhoden  were  before  me  ;  I  could  distinctly  see  three  fourths 
of  their  faces,  and  I  detected  no  expression  except  that  of 
a  grave,  conscientious  interest  in  the  proceedings.  Their 
patience  was  remarkable.  Closely  packed,  man  against 
man,  in  the  hot,  still  sunshine,  they  stood  quietly  for  nearly 
three  hours,  and  voted  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  seven 
times  before  the  business  of  the  day  was  completed.  A 
few  old  men  on  the  edges  of  the  crowd  slipped  away  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  in  order,  as  one  of  them  told  me,  "  to 
keep  their  stomachs  from  giving  way  entirely,"  and  some 
of  the  younger  fellows  took  a  schoppin  of  Most  for  the  same 
purpose;  but  they  generally  returned  and  resumed  their 
places  as  soon  as  refreshed. 

The  close  of  the  LanJsgemeinde  was  one  of  the  most  itn- 


THE   LITTLE   LAND   OF   APPENZELL.  137 

pressive  spectacles  I  ever  witnessed.  When  the  elections 
were  over  and  no  further  duty  remained,  the  Pastor  Etter 
of  Hundwyl  ascended  the  platform.  The  governing  Land- 
amman  assumed  his  black  mantle  of  office,  and,  after  a 
brief  prayer,  took  the  oath  of  inauguration  from  the  clergy 
man.  He  swore  to  further  the  prosperity  and  honor  of  the 
land,  to  ward  off  misfortune  from  it,  to  uphold  the  Consti 
tution  and  laws,  to  protect  the  widows  and  orphans,  and  to 
secure  the  equal  rights  of  all,  nor  through  favor,  hostility, 
gifts,  or  promises  to  be  turned  aside  from  doing  the  same. 
The  clergyman  repeated  the  oath  sentence  by  sentence, 
both  holding  up  the  oath-fingers  of  the  right  hand,  the 
people  looking  on  silent  and  uncovered. 

The  governing  Landamman  now  turned  to  the  assembly, 
and  read  them  their  oath,  that  they  likewise  should  further 
the  honor  and  prosperity  of  the  land,  preserve  its  freedom 
and  its  equal  rights,  obey  the  laws,  protect  the  Council  and 
the  judges,  take  no  gift  or  favor  from  any  prince  or  poten 
tate,  and  that  each  one  should  accept  and  perform,  to  the 
best  of  his  ability,  any  service  to  which  he  might  be  chosen. 
After  this  had  been  read,  the  Landamman  lifted  his  right 
hand,  with  the  oath-fingers  extended ;  his  colleagues  on 
the  platform,  and  every  men  of  the  ten  or  eleven  thousand 
present  did  the  same.  The  silence  was  so  profound  that 
the  chirp  of  a  bird  on  the  hillside  took  entire  possession 
of  the  air.  Then  the  Landamman  slowly  and  solemnly 
spoke  these  words:  *' I  have  well  understood  that  —  which 
has  been  read  to  me;  —  I  will  always  and  exactly  observe 
it,  —  faithfully  and  without  reservation,  —  so  truly  as  I 
wish  and  pray  —  that  God  help  me  !  "  At  each  pause,  the 
same  words  were  repeated  by  every  man,  in  a  low,  subdued 
tone.  The  hush  was  else  so  complete,  the  words  were 
spoken  with  such  measured  firmness,  that  I  caught  each  as 
it  came,  not  as  from  the  lips  of  men,  but  from  a  vast  super 
natural  murmur  in  the  air.  The  effect  was  indescribable. 
Far  off  on  the  horizon  was  the  white  vision  of  an  Alp,  but 


138  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 


all  the  hidden  majesty  of  those  supreme  mountains  was 
nothing  to  the  scene  before  me.  When  the  last  words  had 
been  spoken,  the  hands  sank  slowly,  and  the  crowd  stood  a 
moment  locked  together,  with  grave  faces  and  gleaming 
eyes,  until  the  spirit  that  had  descended  upon  them  passed. 
Then  they  dissolved ;  the  Landsgemeinde  was  over. 

In  my  inn,  I  should  think  more  than  the  expected  six 
hundred  had  found  place.  From  garret  to  cellar,  every 
corner  was  occupied ;  bread,  wine,  and  steamy  dishes 
passed  in  a  steady  whirl  from  kitchen  and  tap-room  into  all 
the  roaring  chambers.  In  the  other  inns  it  was  the  same, 
and  many  took  their  drink  and  provender  in  the  open  air. 
I  met  my  philosopher  of  the  previous  evening,  who  said, 
"  Now,  what  do  you  think  of  our  Landsgemeinde  ?  "  and 
followed  my  answer  with  his  three  Jas,  the  last  a  more 
desponding  sigh  than  ever.  Since  the  business  was  over, 
I  judged  that  the  people  would  be  less  reserved  —  which, 
indeed,  was  the  case.  Nearly  all  with  whom  I  spoke  ex 
pressed  their  satisfaction  with  the  day's  work.  I  walked 
through  the  crowds  in  all  directions,  vainly  seeking  for 
personal  beauty.  There  were  few  women  present,  but  a 
handsome  man  is  only  less  beautiful  than  a  beautiful 
woman,  and  I  like  to  look  at  the  former  when  the  latter  is 
absent.  I  was  surprised  at  the  great  proportion  of  under 
sized  men  ;  only  weaving,  in  close  rooms,  for  several  gen 
erations,  could  have  produced  so  many  squat  bodies  and 
short  legs.  The  Appenzellers  are  neither  a  handsome  nor 
a  picturesque  race,  and  their  language  harmonizes  with 
their  features;  but  I  learned,  during  that  day  at  Hundwyl, 
to  like  and  to  respect  them. 

Pastor  Etter  insisted  on  my  dining  with  him;  two 
younger  clergymen  were  also  guests,  and  my  friend  the 
Chancellor  Engwiller  came  to  make  further  kind  offers  of 
service.  The  people  of  each  parish,  I  learned,  elect  their 
own  pastor,  and  pay  him  his  salary.  In  municipal  matters 
the  same  democratic  system  prevails  as  in  the  cantonal 


THE    LITTLE   LAND   OF  APPENZELL.  189 

government.  Education  is  well  provided  for,  and  the  mor 
als  of  the  community  are  watched  and  guarded  by  a  com 
mittee  consisting  of  the  pastor  and  two  officials  elected  by 
the  people.  Outer-Rhoden  is  almost  exclusively  Protes 
tant,  while  Inner-Rhoden — the  mountain  region  around 
the  Sentis  —  is  Catholic.  Although  thus  geographically 
and  politically  connected,  there  was  formerly  little  inter 
course  between  the  inhabitants  of  the  two  parts  of  the 
Canton,  owing  to  their  religious  differences  ;  but  now  they 
come  together  in  a  friendly  way,  and  are  beginning  to  in 
termarry. 

After  dinner,  the  officials  departed  in  carriages,  to  the 
sound  of  trumpets,  and  thousands  of  the  people  followed. 
Again  the  roads  and  paths  leading  away  over  the  green 
hills  were  dark  with  lines  of  pedestrians ;  but  a  number  of 
those  whose  homes  lay  nearest  to  Hundwyl  lingered  to 
drink  and  gossip  out  the  day.  A  group  of  herdsmen,  over 
whose  brown  faces  the  high  stove-pipe  hat  looked  doubly 
absurd,  gathered  in  a  ring,  and  while  one  of  them  yodelled 
the  Ranz  des  Vaches  of  Appenzell,  the  others  made  an  ac 
companiment  with  their  voices,  imitating  the  sound  of  cow 
bells.  They  were  lusty,  jolly  fellows,  and  their  songs 
hardly  came  to  an  end.  I  saw  one  man  who  might  be 
considered  as  positively  drunk,  but  no  other  who  was  more 
than  affectionately  and  socially  excited.  Towards  sunset 
they  all  dropped  off,  and  when  the  twilight  settled  down 
heavy,  and  threatening  rain,  there  was  no  stranger  but  my 
self  in  the  little  village.  "  I  have  done  tolerably  well," 
said  the  landlord,  "  but  I  can't  count  my  gains  until  day 
after  to-morrow,  when  the  scores  run  up  to-day  must  be 
paid  off."  Considering  that  in  my  own  bill  lodging  was 
set  down  at  six,  and  breakfast  at  twelve  cents,  even  the  fif 
teen  hundred  guests  whom  he  entertained  during  the  day 
could  not  have  given  him  a  very  splendid  profit. 

Taking  a  weaver  of  the  place  as  guide,  I  set  off  early 
the  next  morning  for  the  village  of  Appenzell,  the  capital 


140  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

of  Inner-Rhoden.  The  way  led  me  back  into  the  valley 
of  the  Sitter,  thence  up  towards  the  Sentis  Alp,  winding 
around  and  over  a  multitude  of  hills.  The  same  smooth, 
even,  velvety  carpet  of  grass  was  spread  upon  the  land 
scape,  covering  every  undulation  of  the  surface,  except 
where  the  rocks  had  frayed  themselves  through.  There  is 
no  greener  land  upon  the  earth.  The  grass,  from  centuries 
of  cultivation,  has  become  so  rich  and  nutritious,  that  the 
inhabitants  can  no  longer  spare  even  a  little  patch  of 
ground  for  a  vegetable  garden,  for  the  reason  that  the 
same  space  produces  more  profit  in  hay.  The  green  comes 
up  to  their  very  doors,  and  they  grudge  even  the  foot-paths 
which  connect  them  with  their  neighbors.  Their  vegeta 
bles  are  brought  up  from  the  lower  valleys  of  Thurgau. 
The  first  mowing  had  commenced  at  the  time  of  my  visit, 
and  the  farmers  were  employing  irrigation  and  manure  to 
bring  on  the  second  crop.  By  this  means  they  are  enabled 
to  mow  the  same  fields  every  five  or  six  weeks.  The  pro 
cess  gives  the  whole  region  a  smoothness,  a  mellow  splen 
dor  of  color,  such  as  I  never  saw  elsewhere,  not  even  in 
England. 

A  walk  of  two  hours  through  such  scenery  brought  me 
out  of  the  Sitter  Tobel,  and  in  sight  of  the  little  Alpine 
basin  in  which  lies  Appenzell.  It  was  raining  slowly  and 
dismally,  and  the  broken,  snow-crowned  peaks  of  the  Ka- 
mor  and  the  Hphe  Kasten  stood  like  livid  spectres  of 
mountains  against  the  stormy  sky.  I  made  haste  to  reach 
the  compact,  picturesque  little  town,  and  shelter  myself  in 
an  inn,  where  a  landlady  with  rippled  golden  hair  and  fea 
tures  like  one  of  Dante  Rossetti's  women,  offered  me  trout 
for  dinner.  Out  of  the  back  window  I  looked  for  the  shat 
tered  summits  of  the  Sentis,  which  rise  five  thousand  feet 
above  the  valley,  but  they  were  invisible.  The  vertical 
walls  of  the  Ebenalp.  in  which  are  the  grotto  and  chapel 
of  Wildkirchli,  towered  over  the  nearer  hills,  and  I  saw 
with  regret  that  thev  were  still  above  the  snow  line.  Jt 


THE   LITTLE  LAND    OF  APPENZELL.  141 

was  impossible  to  penetrate  much  further  without  better 
weather ;  but  I  decided,  while  enjoying  my  trout,  to  make 
another  trial  —  to  take  the  road  to  Urnasch,  and  thence 
pass  westward  into  the  renowned  valley  of  the  Toggen- 
burg. 

The  people  of  Inner-Rhoden  are  the  most  picturesque 
of  the  Appenzellers.  The  men  wear  a  round  skull-cap  of 
leather,  sometimes  brilliantly  embroidered,  a  jacket  of 
coarse  drilling,  drawn  on  over  the  head,  and  occasionally 
knee-breeches.  Early  in  May  the  herdsmen  leave  their 
winter  homes  in  the  valleys  and  go  with  their  cattle  to  the 
Matten,  or  lofty  mountain  pastures.  The  most  intelligent 
cows,  selected  as  leaders  for  the  herd,  march,  in  advance, 
with  enormous  bells,  sometimes  a  foot  in  diameter,  sus 
pended  to  their  necks  by  bands  of  embroidered  leather ; 
then  follow  the  others,  and  the  bull,  who,  singularly  enough 
carries  the  milking-pail  garlanded  with  flowers,  between 
his  horns,  brings  up  the  rear.  The  Alpadores  are  in  their 
finest  Sunday  costume,  and  the  sound  of  yodel-songs  — 
the  very  voice  of  Alpine  landscapes  —  echoes  from  every 
hill.  Such  a  picture  as  this,  under  the  cloudless  blue  of  a 
fortunate  May  day,  makes  the  heart  of  the  Appenzeller 
light.  He  goes  joyously  up  to  his  summer  labor,  and 
makes  his  herb-cheese  on  the  heights,  while  his  wife 
weaves  and  embroiders  muslin  in  the  valley  until  his  re 
turn. 

In  the  afternoon  I  set  out  for  Urnasch,  with  a  bright 
boy  as  guide.  Hot  gleams  of  sunshine  now  and  then 
struck  like  fire  across  the  green  mountains,  and  the  Sentis 
partly  unveiled  his  stubborn  forehead  of  rock.  Behind 
him,  however,  lowered  inky  thunder-clouds,  and  long  before 
the  afternoon's  journey  was  made  it  was  raining  below  and 
snowing  aloft.  The  scenery  grew  more  broken  and  abrupt 
the  further  I  penetrated  into  the  country,  but  it  was  every 
where  as  thickly  peopled  and  as  wonderfully  cultivated. 
At  Gonten,  there  is  a  large  building  for  the  whey-cure  of 


142  BY-WAYS    OF  EUROPE. 

overfed  people  of  the  world.  A  great  many  such,  I  was 
told,  come  to  Appenzell  for  the  summer.  Many  of  the 
persons  we  met  not  only  said,  "  God  greet  you  ! "  but  im 
mediately  added,  "  Adieu ! "  —  like  the  Salve  et  vale  !  of 
classical  times. 

Beyond  Gonten  the  road  dropped  into  a  wild  ravine,  the 
continual  windings  of  which  rendered  it  very  attractive.  I 
found  enough  to  admire  in  every  farm-house  by  the  way 
side,  with  its  warm  wood-color,  its  quaint  projecting  bal 
conies,  and  coat  of  shingle  mail.  When  the  ravine  opened, 
and  the  deep  valley  of  Urnasch,  before  me,  appeared  be 
tween  cloven  heights  of  snow,  disclosing  six  or  eight  square 
miles  of  perfect  emerald,  over  which  the  village  is  scat 
tered,  I  was  fully  repaid  for  having  pressed  farther  into  the 
heart  of  the  land.  There  were  still  two  hours  until  night, 
and  I  might  have  gone  on  to  the  Rossfall,  —  a  cascade 
three  or  four  miles  higher  up  the  valley,  —  but  the  clouds 
were  threatening,  and  the  distant  mountain-sides  already 
dim  under  the  rain. 

At  the  village  inn  I  found  several  herdsmen  and  mechan 
ics,  each  with  a  bottle  of  Rheinthaler  wine  before  him. 
They  were  ready  and  willing  to  give  me  all  the  information 
I  needed.  In  order  to  reach  the  Toggenburg,  they  said,  I 
must  go  over  the  Kratzernwald.  It  was  sometimes  a  dan 
gerous  journey;  the  snow  was  many  cubits  deep,  and  at 
this  time  of  the  year  it  was  frequently  so  soft,  that  a  man 
would  sink  to  his  hips.  To-day,  however,  there  had  been 
thunder,  and  after  thunder  the  snow  is  always  hard-packed, 
so  that  you  can  walk  on  it ;  but  to  cross  the  Kratzernwald 
without  a  guide,  —  never!  For  two  hours  you  were  in  a 
wild  forest,  not  a  house,  nor  even  a  Sennhutf  (herdsman's 
cabin)  to  be  seen,  and  no  proper  path,  but  a  clambering 
hither  and  thither,  in  snow  and  mud ;  with  this  weather,  — 
yes,  one  could  get  into  Toggenburg  that  way,  they  said,  but 
not  alone,  and  only  because  there  had  been  thunder  on  the 
mountains. 


THE   LITTLE    LAND    OF   APPENZELL.  143 

But  all  night  the  rain  beat  against  my  chamber  window, 
and  in  the  morning  the  lower  slopes  on  the  mountains 
were  gray  with  new  snow,  which  no  thunder  had  packed. 
Indigo-colored  clouds  lay  heavily  on  all  the  Alpine  peaks  ; 
the  air  was  raw  and  chilly,  and  the  roads  slippery.  In  such 
weather  the  scenery  is  not  only  shrouded,  but  the  people 
are  shut  up  in  their  homes,  —  wherefore  further  travel 
would  not  have  been  repaid.  I  had  already  seen  the  greater 
part  of  the  little  land,  and  so  gave  up  my  thwarted  plans 
the  more  cheerfully.  When  the  post-omnibus  for  Herisau 
came  to  the  inn  door,  I  took  my  seat  therein,  saying,  like 
Schiller's  "  Sennbub',"  "  J/ir  Matten,  lebt  wolil!  ihr  sonnige 
Weiden  !  " 

The  country  became  softer  and  lovelier  as  the  road  grad 
ually  fell  towards  Herisau,  which  is  the  richest  and  state 
liest  town  of  the  Canton.  I  saw  little  of  it  except  the 
hospitable  home  of  my  friend  the  Chancellor,  for  we  had 
brought  the  Alpine  weather  with  us.  The  architecture  of 
the  place,  nevertheless,  is  charming,  the  town  being  com 
posed  of  country -houses,  balconied  and  shingled,  and  set 
down  together  in  the  most  irregular  way,  every  street  shoot 
ing  off  at  a  different  angle.  A  mile  beyond,  I  reached  the 
edge  of  the  mountain  region,  and  again  looked  down  upon 
the  prosperous  valley  of  St.  Gall.  Below  me  was  the  rail 
way,  and  as  I  sped  towards  Zurich  that  afternoon,  the  top  of 
the  Sentis,  piercing  through  a  mass  of  dark  rain-clouds, 
was  my  last  glimpse  of  the  Little  Land  of  Appenzell. 


FROM  PERPIGNAN  TO  MOtfTSERRAT. 


"  OUT  of  France  and  into  Spain,"  says  the  old  nursery 
rhyme ;  but  at  the  eastern  base  of  the  Pyrenees  one  seems 
to  have  entered  Spain  before  leaving  France.  The  rich 
vine-plains  of  Roussillon  once  belonged  to  the  former 
country ;  they  retain  quite  as  distinct  traces  of  the  earlier 
Moorish  occupancy,  and  their  people  speak  a  dialect  almost 
identical  with  that  of  Catalonia.  I  do  not  remember  the 
old  boundaries  of  the  province,  but  I  noticed  the  change 
immediately  after  leaving  Narbonne.  Vine-green,  with  the 
grays  of  olive  and  rock,  were  the  only  colors  of  the  land 
scape.  The  towns,  massive  and  perched  upon  elevations, 
spoke  of  assault  and  defense ;  the  laborers  in  the  fields 
were  brown,  dark-haired,  and  grave,  and  the  semi-African 
silence  of  Spain  seemed  already  to  brood  over  the  land. 

I  entered  Perpignan  under  a  heavy  Moorish  gateway, 
and  made  my  way  to  a  hostel  through  narrow,  tortuous 
streets,  between  houses  with  projecting  balconies,  and  win 
dows  few  and  small,  as  in  the  Orient.  The  hostel,  though 
ambitiously  calling  itself  a  hotel,  was  filled  with  that 
Mediterranean  atmosphere  and  odor  which  you  breathe 
everywhere  in  Italy  and  the  Levant,  —  a  single  charac 
teristic  flavor,  in  which,  nevertheless,  you  fancy  you  detect 
the  exhalations  of  garlic,  oranges,  horses,  cheese,  and  oil. 
A  mild  whiif  of  it  stimulates  the  imagination,  and  is  no 
detriment  to  physical  comfort.  When,  at  breakfast,  red 
mullet  came  upon  the  table,  and  oranges  fresh  from  the 
tree,  I  straightway  took  off  my  Northern  nature  as  a  gar 
ment,  folded  it  and  packed  it  neatly  away  in  my  knapsack, 
and  took,  out  in  its  stead,  the  light,  beribboned,  and  be 
spangled  Southern  nature,  which  I  had  not  worn  for  some 


148  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

eight  or  nine  years.  It  was  like  a  dressing-gown  after  a 
dress-coat,  and  I  went  about  with  a  delightfully  free  play 
of  the  mental  and  moral  joints. 

There  were  four  hours  before  the  departure  of  the  dili 
gence  for  Spain,  and  I  presume  I  might  have  seen  various 
historical  or  architectural  sights  of  Perpignan ;  but  I  was 
really  too  comfortable  for  anything  else  than  a  lazy  mean 
dering  about  the  city,  feeding  my  eyes  on  quaint  houses 
groups  of  people  full  of  noise  and  gesture,  the  scarlet  blos 
soms  of  the  pomegranate,  and  the  glitter  of  citron-leaves 
in  the  gardens.  A  one-legged  fellow,  seven  feet  high,  who 
called  himself  a  commissionaire,  insisted  on  accompanying 
me,  and  I  finally  accepted  him,  for  two  reasons;  —  first,  he 
knew  nothing  whatever  about  the  city ;  and  secondly,  tour 
ists  are  so  rare  that  he  must  have  been  very  poor.  His 
wooden  leg,  moreover,  easily  kept  pace  with  my  loitering 
steps,  and  though,  as  a  matter  of  conscience,  he  sometimes 
volunteered  a  little  information,  he  took  my  silence  meekly 
and  without  offense.  In  this  wise,  I  gained  some  pleasant 
pictures  of  the  place ;  and  the  pictures  which  come  with 
least  effort  are  those  which  remain  freshest  in  memory. 

There  was  one  point,  however,  where  my  limping  giant 
made  a  stand,  and  set  his  will  against  expostulation  or  en 
treaty.  I  must  see  the  avenue  of  sycamores,  he  said ;  there 
was  plenty  of  time  ;  France,  the  world,  had  no  such  avenue  ; 
it  was  near  at  hand  ;  every  stranger  went  to  see  it  and  was 
amazed;  —  and  therewith  he  set  off,  without  waiting  for  my 
answer.  I  followed,  for  I  saw  that  otherwise  he  would  not 
have  considered  his  fee  earned.  The  avenue  of  sycamores 
was  indeed  all  that  he  had  promised.  I  had  seen  larger 
trees  in  Syria  and  Negropont,  but  here  was  a  triple  avenue, 
nearly  half  a  mile  in  length,  so  trained  and  sculptured  that 
they  rivaled  the  regularity  of  masonry.  Each  trunk,  at 
the  height  of  ten  or  twelve  feet,  divided  into  two  arms, 
which  then  leaned  outwards  at  the  same  ancle,  and  mingled 

&        "  o 

their  smaller  boughs,  fifty  feet  overhead      The  aisles  be- 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  149 

tween  them  thus  took  the  form  of  very  slender  pyramids, 
truncated  near  the  top.  If  the  elm  gives  the  Gothic,  this 
was  assuredly  the  Cyclopean  arch.  In  the  beginning,  the 
effect  must  have  been  artificially  produced,  but  the  trees 
were  now  so  old,  and  had  so  accustomed  themselves  to  the 
forms  imposed,  that  no  impression  of  force  or  restraint  re 
mained.  Through  the  roof  of  this  superb  green  minster 
not  a  beam  of  sunshine  found  its  way.  On  the  hard  gravel 
floor  groups  of  peasants,  soldiers,  nurses,  and  children 
strolled  up  and  down,  all  with  the  careless  and  leisurely  air 
of  a  region  where  time  has  no  particular  value. 

We  passed  a  dark-haired  and  rather  handsome  gentle 
man  and  lady.  "They  are  opera-singers,  Italians,"  said  my 
companion,  "  and  they  are  going  with  you  in  the  diligence." 
I  looked  at  my  watch  and  found  that  the  hour  of  departure 
had  nearly  arrived,  and  I  should  have  barely  time  to  pro 
cure  a  little  Spanish  money.  When  I  reached  the  office, 
the  gentleman  and  lady  were  already  installed  in  the  two 
corners  of  the  coupe.  My  place,  apparently,  was  between 
them.  The  agent  was  politely  handing  me  up  the  steps, 
when  the  gentleman  began  to  remonstrate ;  but  in  France 
the  regulations  are  rigid,  and  he  presently  saw  that  the  in 
trusion  could  not  be  prevented.  With  a  sigh  and  a  groan 
he  gave  up  his  comfortable  corner  to  me,  and  took  the 
middle  seat,  for  which  I  was  booked !  "  Will  you  have 
your  place  ? "  whispered  the  agent.  I  shook  my  head. 
"  You  get  the  best  seat,  don't  you  see  ?  "  he  resumed,  "  be 
cause  "  —  But  the  rest  of  the  sentence  was  a  wink  and  a 
laugh.  I  am  sure  there  is  the  least  possible  of  a  Don  Juan 
in  my  appearance ;  yet  this  agent  never  lost  an  opportunity 
to  wink  at  me  whenever  he  came  near  the  diligence,  and 
I  fancied  I  heard  him  humming  to  himself,  as  we  drove 

away,  — 

"Ma  —  nella  Spagna  —  mille  e  tre  !  " 

I  endeavored  to  be  reasonably  courteous,  without  famili 
arity,  towards  the  opera-singers,  but  the  effect  of  the  mali- 


150  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

cious  winks  and  smiles  made  the  lady  appear  to  me  timid 
and  oppressed,  and  the  gentleman  an  unexploded  mine  of 
jealousy.  My  remarks  were  civilly  if  briefly  answered,  and 
then  they  turned  towards  each  other  and  began  conversing 
in  a  language  which  was  not  Italian,  although  melodious,  nor 
French,  although  nasal.  I  pricked  up  my  ears  and  listened 
more  sharply  than  good  manners  allowed  —  but  only  until 
I  had  recognized  the  Portuguese  tongue.  Whomsoever  I 
may  meet  in  wandering  over  the  world,  it  rarely  happens 
that  I  cannot  discover  some  common  or  "  mutual "  friend, 
and  in  this  instance  I  determined  to  try  the  experiment. 
After  preliminaries,  which  gently  led  the  conversation  to 
Portugal,  I  asked,  — 

"Do  you  happen  to  know  Count  M ?" 

"  Only  by  name." 

"Or  Senhor  O ,  a  young  man  and  an  astronomer?  " 

"  Very  well !  "  was  the  reply.  "  He  is  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  young  men  of  science  in  Portugal." 

The  ice  was  thereupon  broken,  and  the  gentleman  be 
came  communicative  and  agreeable.  I  saw,  very  soon,  that 
the  pair  were  no  more  opera-singers  than  they  were  Ital 
ians  ;  that  the  lady  was  not  timid,  nor  her  husband  jealous  ; 
but  he  had  simply  preferred,  as  any  respectable  husband 
would,  to  give  up  his  comfortable  seat  rather  than  have  a 
stranger  thrust  between  himself  and  his  wife. 

Once  out  of  Perpignan,  the  Pyrenees  lay  clear  before 
us.  Over  bare  red  hills,  near  at  hand,  rose  a  gray  moun 
tain  rampart,  neither  lofty  nor  formidable ;  but  westward, 
between  the  valleys  of  the  Tech  and  the  Tet,  towered 
the  solitary  pyramid  of  the  Canigou,  streaked  with  snow- 
filled  ravines.  The  landscapes  would  have  appeared  bleak 
and  melancholy,  but  for  the  riotous  growth  of  vines  which 
cover  the  plain  and  climb  the  hillsides  wherever  there  is 
room  for  a  terrace  of  earth.  These  vines  produce  the  dark, 
rich  wine  of  Roussillon,  the  best  vintage  of  Southern 
France.  Hedges  of  aloes,  clumps  of  Southern  cypress, 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  151 

poplars  by  the  dry  beds  of  winter  streams,  with  brown  tints 
in  the  houses  and  red  in  the  soil,  increased  the  resemblance 
to  Spain.  Rough  fellows,  in  rusty  velvet,  who  now  and 
then  dug  their  dangling  heels  into  the  sides  of  the  mules 
or  asses  they  rode,  were  enough  like  arrieros  or  contraban- 
distas  to  be  the  real  article.  Our  stout  and  friendly  coach 
man,  even,  was  hailed  by  the  name  of  Moreno,  and  spoke 
French  with  a  foreign  accent. 

At  the  post-station  of  Le  Boulou,  we  left  the  plain  of 
Roussillon  behind  us.  At  this  end  of  the  Pyrenean  chain 
there  are  no  such  trumpet-names  as  Roncesvalles,  Font- 
arabia,  and  Bidassoa.  Hannibal,  Caesar,  Charlemagne,  and 
the  Saracens  have  marched  through  these  defiles,  and  left 
no  grand  historic  footprint,  but  they  will  always  keep  the 
interest  which  belongs  to  those  natural  barriers  and  division 
walls  whereby  races  and  histories  were  once  separated.  It 
was  enough  for  me  that  here  were  the  Pyrenees,  and  I 
looked  forward,  perhaps,  with  a  keene*  curiosity,  to  the  char 
acter  and  forms  of  their  scenery,  than  to  the  sentiment 
which  any  historic  association  could  produce.  A  broad  and 
perfect  highway  led  us  through  shallow  valleys,  whose  rocky 
sides  were  hung  with  rows  of  olive-trees,  into  wilder  and 
more  abrupt  dells,  where  vegetation  engaged  in  a  struggle 
with  stone,  and  without  man's  help  would  have  been  driven 
from  the  field.  Over  us  the  mountains  lifted  themselves  in 
bold  bastions  and  parapets,  disforested  now,  if  those  gray 
upper  plateaus  ever  bore  forests,  and  of  a  uniform  slaty 
gray  in  tone  except  where  reddish  patches  of  oxidation 
showed  like  the  rust  of  age. 

But,  like  "  all  waste  and  solitary  places,"  the  scenery  had 
its  own  peculiar  charm.  Poussin  and  Salvator  Rosa  would 
have  seated  themselves  afresh  at  every  twist  of  the  glen, 
and  sketched  the  new  picture  which  it  unfolded.  The  huge 
rocks,  fallen  from  above,  or  shattered  in  the  original  up 
heaval  of  the  chain,  presented  a  thousand  sharp,  forcible 
outlines  and  ragged  facets  of  shadow,  and  the  two  native 


152  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

growths  of  the  Pyrenees  —  box  and  cork-oak  —  fringed 
them  as  thickets  or  overhung  them  as  trees,  in  the  wildest 
and  most  picturesque  combinations.  Indeed,  during  this 
portion  of  the  journey,  I  saw  scores  of  sketches  waiting  for 
the  selected  artist  who  has  not  yet  come  for  them, — 
sketches  full  of  strength  and  beauty,  and  with  a  harmony 
of  color  as  simple  as  the  chord  of  triple  tones  in  music. 
\Yhen  to  their  dark  grays  and  greens  came  the  scarlet  Phry 
gian  cap  of  the  Catalonian,  it  was  brighter  than  sunshine. 

The  French  fortress  of  Bellegarde,  crowning  a  drum- 
shaped  mass  of  rock,  which  blocked  up  the  narrow  valley 
in  front,  announced  our  approach  to  the  Spanish  frontier. 
The  road  wound  back  and  forth  as  it  climbed  through  a 
stony  wilderness  to  the  mouth  of  a  gorge  under  the  fortress, 
and  I  saw,  before  we  entered  this  last  gateway  into  Spain, 
the  peak  of  the  Canigou  touched  with  sunset,  and  the  sweep 
of  plain  beyond  it  black  under  the  shadow  of  storm-clouds. 
On  either  side  were  Some  heaps  of  stone,  left  from  forts 
and  chapels  of  the  Middle  Ages,  indicating  that  we  had  al 
ready  reached  the  summit  of  the  pass,  which  is  less  than  a 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea-level.  In  ten  minutes  the 
gorge  opened,  and  we  found  ourselves  suddenly  rattling 
along  the  one  street  of  the  gay  French  village  of  Perthus. 
Officers  from  Bellegarde  sat  at  the  table  in  front  of  the 
smart  cafe,  and  drank  absinthe  ;  soldiers  in  red  trousers 
chatted  with  the  lively  women  who  sold  tobacco  and  gro 
ceries  ;  there  were  trees,  little  gardens,  arbors  of  vine,  and 
the  valley  opened  southwards,  descending  and  broadening 
towards  a  cloudless  evening  sky. 

At  the  end  of  the  village  I  saw  a  granite  pyramid,  with 
the  single  word  "  Gallia  "  engraved  upon  it ;  a  few  paces 
farther,  two  marble  posts  bore  the  half-obliterated  arms  of 
Spain.  Here  the  diligence  paused  a  moment,  and  an  offi 
cer  of  customs  took  his  seat  beside  the  coachman.  The 
telegraph  pole  behind  us  was  of  barked  pine,  the  next  one 
in  front  was  painted  gray ;  the  vente  dp.  tabac  became 


FROM  PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  1^8 

estanco  national,  and  the  only  overlapping  of  the  two  na 
tionalities  which  I  observed  —  all  things  else  being  sud 
denly  and  sharply  divided  —  was  that  some  awkward  and 
dusty  Spanish  soldiers  were  walking  up  the  street  of  Per- 
thus,  and  some  trim,  jaunty  French  soldiers  were  walking 
down  the  road,  towards  the  first  Spanish  wine-shop.  We 
also  went  down,  and  swiftly,  in  the  falling  twilight,  through 
which,  erelong,  gardens  and  fields  began  to  glimmer,  and 
in  half  an  hour  drew  up  in  the  little  Spanish  town  of  La 
Junquera,  the  ancient  "  place  of  rushes."  Here  there  was 
a  rapid  and  courteous  examination  of  baggage,  a  call  for 
passports,  which  were  opened  and  then  handed  back  to  us 
without  vise  or  fee  being  demanded,  and  we  were  declared 
free  to  journey  in  Spain.  Verily  the  world  is  becoming 
civilized,  when  Spain,  the  moral  satrapy  of  Rome,  begins 
to  pull  down  her  barriers  and  let  the  stranger  in  ! 

I  inspected  our  "  insides,"  as  they  issued  forth,  and  found, 
in  addition  to  a  priest  and  three  or  four  commercial  indi 
viduals  with  a  contraband  air,  a  young  French  naval  officer, 
and  an  old  German  who  was  too  practical  for  a  professor 
and  too  stubborn  in  his  views  to  be  anything  else.  He  had 
made  fifteen  journeys  to  Switzerland,  he  informed  me, 
knew  Scotland  from  the  Cheviots  to  John  o'  Groat's,  and 
now  proposed  the  conquest  of  Spain.  Here  Moreno  sum 
moned  us  to  our  places,  and  the  diligence  rolled  onward. 
Past  groups  of  Catalans,  in  sandals  and  scarlet  bonnets, 
returning  from  the  harvest  fields;  past  stacks  of  dusky 
grain  and  shadowy  olive-orchards  ;  past  open  houses,  where 
a  single  lamp  sometimes  flashed  upon  a  woman's  head  ; 
past  a  bonfire,  turning  the  cork-trees  into  transparent 
bronze,  and  past  the  sound  of  water,  plunging  under  the 
idle  mill-wheel,  in  the  cool,  delicious  summer  air,  —  we 
journeyed  on.  The  stars  were  beginning  to  gather  in  the 
sky,  when  square  towers  and  masses  of  cubic  houses  rose 
against  them,  and  the  steady  roll  of  our  wheels  on  the 
smooth  highway  became  a  dreadful  clatter  on  the  rough 
cobble-stones  of  Figueras. 


154  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

The  Pyrenees  were  already  behind  us ;  the  town  over 
looks  a  wide,  marshy  plain.  But  the  mountains  make  their 
vicinity  felt  in  a  peculiar  manner.  The  north-wind,  gath 
ered  into  the  low  pass  of  Bellegarde  and  drawn  to  a  focus 
of  strength,  blows  down  the  opening  valley  with  a  force 
which  sometimes  lays  an  embargo  on  travel.  Diligences 
are  overturned,  postilions  blown  out  of  their  saddles,  and 
pedestrians  carried  off  their  feet.  The  people  then  pray 
to  their  saints  that  the  tramontana  may  cease  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  it  is  a  very  healthy  wind,  sweeping  away 
the  feverish  exhalations  from  the  marshy  soil,  they  get  up 
a  grand  annual  procession  to  some  mountain-shrine  of  the 
Virgin,  and  pray  that  it  may  blow.  So,  when  the  Virgin 
takes  them  at  their  word,  the  saints  are  invoked  on  the 
other  side,  and  the  wonder  is  that  both  parties  don't  get 
out  of  patience  with  the  people  of  Figueras. 

The  diligence  drew  up  at  the  door  of  a  fonda,  and 
Moreno  announced  that  we  were  to  take  supper  and  wait 
until  midnight.  This  was  welcome  news  to  all ;  but  the 
old  German  drew  me  aside  as  we  entered  the  house,  and 
whispered,  "  Now  our  stomachs  are  going  to  be  tried." 
"  Not  at  all,"  I  answered,  "  we  shall  find  very  good  prov 
ender."  "  But  the  guide-book  says  it  is  very  bad,"  he 
persisted.  And  he  looked  despondent,  even  with  a  clean 
table-cloth  and  a  crisp  roll  of  bread  before  him,  until  the 
soup  steamed  under  his  nose.  His  face  brightened  at  the 
odor,  grew  radiant  at  the  flavor,  and  long  before  we  reached 
the  roast  pullet  and  salad,  he  expressed  his  satisfaction 
with  Spanish  cookery.  With  the  dessert  came  a  vino  rancio, 
full  of  summer  fire,  and  the  tongues  of  the  company  were 
loosened.  From  the  weather  and  the  Paris  Exposition 
we  leaped  boldly  into  politics,  and,  being  on  Spanish  soil, 
discussed  France  and  the  Mexican  business.  The  French 
officer  was  silent  and  annoyed ;  he  was  a  pleasant  fellow, 
and  I,  for  one,  had  a  little  sympathy  with  his  annoyance, 
but  I  could  not  help  saying  that  all  Americans  (except  the 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  155 

Rev. )  considered  the  action  of  France  as  an  out 
rage  and  an  impertinence,  and  were  satisfied  with  her 
miserable  failure.  The  Spanish  passengers  nodded  and 
smiled. 

I  should  not  have  spoken,  had  I  foreseen  one  conse 
quence  of  my  words.  The  German  snatched  the  reins  of 
conversation  out  of  our  hands,  and  dashed  off  at  full  speed, 
trampling  France  and  her  ruler  under  his  feet.  At  the 
first  pause,  I  said  to  him,  in  German  :  "  Pray  don't  be  so 
violent  in  your  expressions,  —  the  gentleman  beside  me  is 
a  naval  officer."  But  he  answered  :  "  I  don't  care,  I  must 
speak  my  mind,  which  I  could  not  do  in  Paris.  France 
has  been  the  curse  of  Spain,  as  well  as  of  all  Europe,  and 
there  will  be  no  peace  until  we  put  a  stop  to  her  preten 
sions  ! "  Thereupon  he  said  the  same  thing  to  the  com 
pany  ;  but  the  Spaniards  were  too  politic  to  acquiesce  openly. 
The  officer  replied,  "  France  has  not  injured  Spain,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  has  protected  her  !  "  and  he  evidently  had 
not  the  slightest  suspicion  that  there  was  anything  offensive 
in  his  words.  The  Spaniards  still  remained  silent,  but 
another  expression  came  into  their  eyes.  It  was  time 
to  change  the  subject ;  so  the  principle  of  non-intervention, 
in  its  fullest,  most  literal  sense,  was  proposed  and  ac 
cepted.  A  grave  Majorcan  gentleman  distributed  cigars ; 
his  daughter,  with  her  soft,  melodious  voice,  was  oil  to  the 
troubled  waters,  and  before  midnight  we  were  all  equally 
courteous  and  cosmopolitan. 

Of  the  four  ensuing  hours  I  can  give  no  account. 
Neither  asleep  nor  awake,  hearing  with  closed  eyes  or  see- 
with  half-closed  senses,  one  can  never  afterwards  distinguish 
between  what  is  seen  and  what  is  dreamed.  This  is  a 
state  in  which  the  body  may  possibly  obtain  some  rest,  but 
the  mind  becomes  inexpressibly  fatigued.  One's  memory 
of  it  is  a  blurred  sketch,  a  faded  daguerreotype.  I  wel 
comed  that  hour  when  — 

u  The  wind  blows  cold 
While  the  morning  doth  unfold." 


156  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

for  it  blew  away  this  film,  which  usurped  the  place  of  the 
blessed  mantle  of  sleep.  Chill,  even  here  in  African 
Spain,  where  the  pale  pearl  of  the  dawn  foretold  a  burning 
noon,  and  where,  in  May,  the  harvests  were  already  reaped, 
the  morning  brightened ;  but  we  were  near  the  end  of  the 
journey.  At  sunrise,  the  towers  of  Girona  stood  fast  and 
firm  over  the  misty  level  of  the  shimmering  olive-groves  ; 
then  the  huge  dull  mass  of  the  cathedral,  the  walls  and 
bastions  of  the  hill-forts,  which  resisted  a  siege  of  seven 
months  during  the  Peninsular  War,  and  finally  the  monot 
onous  streets  of  the  lower  town,  through  which  we  drove. 

The  industrious  Catalans  were  already  awake  and  stir 
ring.  Smokes  from  domestic  hearths  warmed  the  cool 
morning  air ;  cheerful  noises  of  men,  animals,  and  fowls 
broke  the  silence ;  doors  were  open  as  we  entered  the  town, 
and  the  women  were  combing  and  twisting  their  black 
hair  in  the  shadows  within.  At  the  post  some  brown 
grooms  lounged  about  the  door.  A  priest  passed,  —  a  gen 
uine  Don  Basilio,  in  inky  gown  and  shovel  hat ;  and  these 
graceless  grooms  looked  after  him,  thrust  their  tongues 
into  their  cheeks,  and  made  an  irreverent  grimace.  The 
agent  at  Perpignan  came  into  my  mind  ;  I  winked  at  the 
fellows,  without  any  clear  idea  wherefore,  but  it  must  have 
expressed  something,  for  they  burst  into  a  laugh  and  re 
peated  the  grimace. 

The  lower  town  seemed  to  be  of  immense  length.  Once 
out  of  it,  a  superb  avenue  of  plane  trees  received  us,  at  the 
end  of  which  was  the  railway  station.  In  another  hour  the 
train  would  leave  for  Barcelona.  Our  trunks  must  be 
again  examined.  When  I  asked  the  reason  why  this  an 
noying  regulation,  obsolete  elsewhere  in  F.urope,  is  here 
retained,  the  Spaniards  gravely  informed  me  that,  if  it  were 
abolished,  a  great  many  people  would  be  thrown  out  of 
employment.  Not  that  they  get  much  pay  for  the  exam 
ination,  —  but  they  are  constantly  bribed  not  to  examine  ! 
There  was  a  cafe  attached  to  the  station,  and  I  advised  my 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  157 

fellow-passengers  to  take  a  cup  of  the  delicious  ropy  choco 
late  of  Spain,  after  which  one  accepts  the  inevitable  more 
patiently. 

I  found  the  landscapes  from  Girona  to  Barcelona  very 
bright  and  beautiful.  Our  locomotive  had  fallen  into  the 
national  habit :  it  was  stately  and  deliberate,  it  could  not 
be  hurried,  its  very  whistle  was  subdued  and  dignified. 
We  went  forward  at  an  easy  pace,  making  about  fifteen 
miles  an  hour,  which  enabled  me  to  notice  the  patient  in 
dustry  of  the  people,  as  manifested  on  every  plain  and  hill 
side.  The  Catalans  are  called  rough  and  ungraceful ;  beside 
the  sprightly  Andalusians  they  seem  cold  and  repellent ; 
they  have  less  of  that  blue  blood  which  makes  the  beggar  as 
proud  as  the  grandee,  but  they  possess  the  virtue  of  labor, 
which,  however  our  artistic  tastes  may  undervalue  it,  is  the 
basis  from  which  all  good  must  spring.  When  I  saw  how 
the  red  and  rocky  hills  were  turned  into  garden-terraces, 
how  the  olive-trees  were  pruned  into  health  and  produc 
tiveness,  how  the  wheat  stood  so  thick  that  it  rolled  but 
stiffly  under  the  breeze,  I  forgot  the  jaunty  majos  of  Seville, 
and  gave  my  hearty  admiration  to  the  strong-backed  reap 
ers  in  the  fields  of  Catalonia. 

The  passengers  we  took  up  on  the  way,  though  belong 
ing  to  the  better  class,  and  speaking  Spanish  whenever  it 
was  necessary,  all  seemed  to  prefer  the  popular  dialect. 
Proprietors  of  estates  and  elegant  young  ladies  conversed 
together  in  the  rough  patois  of  the  peasants,  which  to  me 
was  especially  tantalizing,  because  it  sounded  so  familiar, 
and  yet  was  so  unintelligible.  It  is  in  reality  the  old  lanyue 
limousine  of  France,  kindred  to  the  Provencal,  and  differs 
very  slightly  from  the  dialect  spoken  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Pyrenees.  It  is  terse,  forcible,  and  expressive,  and  I 
must  confess  that  the  lisping  Spanish,  beside  it,  seems  to 
gain  in  melody  at  the  expense  of  strength. 

We  approached  Barcelona  across  the  wide  plain  of  the 
Llobregat,  where  orange  gardens  and  factory  chimneys, 


158  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

fountains  "  i'  the  midst  of  roses,"  and  machine-shops  full  of 
grimy  workmen,  succeed  each  other  in  a  curious  tangle  of 
poetry  and  greasy  fact.     The  Mediterranean  gleams  in  a 
blue  line  on  the  left,  the  citadel  of  Monjuich  crowns  a  bluff 
in  front ;  but  the  level  city  hides  itself  behind  the  foliage 
of  the  plain,  and  is  not  seen.     At  the  station  you  wait  half 
an  hour,  until  the  baggage  is  again  deposited  on  the  dis- 
secting-tables  of  the  custom  officers  ;  and  here,  if,  instead 
of  joining  the  crowd  of  unhappy  murmurers  in  the  ante 
room,  you  take  your  station  in  the  doorway,  looking  down 
upon  porters,  peddlers,  idlers,  and  policemen,  you  are  sure 
to  be  diverted  by  a  little  comedy  acted  in  pantomime. 
An  outside  porter  has  in  some  way  interfered  with  the 
rights  of  a  station-porter ;  a  policeman  steps  between  the 
two,  the  latter  of  whom,  lifting  both  hands  to  heaven  in  a 
wild  appeal,  brings  them  down  swiftly  and  thrusts  them 
out  before  him,  as  if  descending  to  earthly  justice.     The 
outsider  goes  through  the  same  gestures,  and  then  both, 
with  flashing  eyes  and  open  mouths,  teeth  glittering  under 
the  drawn  lips,  await  the  decision.     The  policeman  first 
makes  a  sabre-cut  with  his  right  arm,  then  with  his  left ; 
then  also  lifts  his  hands  to  heaven,  shakes  them  there  a 
moment,  and,  turning  as  he  brings  them  down,  faces  the 
outside  porter.     The  latter  utters  a  passionate  cry,  and  his 
arms  begin  to  rise  ;  but  he  is  seized  by  the  shoulder  and 
turned  aside  ;  the  crowd  closes  in,  and  the  comedy  is  over. 
We  have  a  faint  interest  in   Barcelona  for  the  sake  of 
Columbus;  but,  apart  from  this  one  association,  we  set  it 
down  beside  Manchester,  Lowell,  and  other  manufacturing 
cities.     It  was  so  crowded  within   its   former  walls,  that 
little  space  was  left  for  architectural  display.     In  many  of 
the   streets    I   doubt   whether    four    persons   could   walk 
abreast.    Only  in  the  Rambla,  a  broad  central  boulevard,  is 
there  any  chance  for  air  and  sunshine,  and  all  the  leisure 
and  pleasure  of  the  city  is  poured  into  this  one  avenue. 
Since  the   useless  walls  have  been  removed,  an  ambitious 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  159 

modern  suburb  is  springing  up  on  the  west,  and  there  will, 
in  time,  be  a  new  city  better  than  the  old. 

This  region  appears  to  be  the  head-quarters  of  political 
discontent  in  Spain,  —  probably  because  the  people  get  to 
be  more  sensible  of  the  misrule  under  which  they  languish, 
in  proportion  as  they  become  more  active  and  industrious. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  peaceable  upon  the  surface 
than  the  aspect  of  things ;  the  local  newspapers  never  re 
ported  any  disturbance,  yet  intelligence  of  trouble  in  Cata 
lonia  was  circulating  through  the  rest  of  Europe,  and 
something  —  I  could  not  ascertain  precisely  what  it  was  — 
took  place  during  my  brief  visit.  The  telegraph-wires 
were  cut,  and  some  hundreds  of  soldiers  were  sent  into  the 
country  ;  but  the  matter  was  never  mentioned,  unless  two 
persons  whom  I  saw  whispering  together  in  the  darkest  cor 
ner  of  a  cafe  were  discussing  it.  I  believe,  if  a  battle  had 
been  fought  within  hearing  of  the  cannon,  the  Barcelonese 
would  have  gone  about  the  streets  with  the  same  placid, 
unconcerned  faces.  Whether  this  was  cunning,  phlegm, 
or  the  ascendency  of  solid  material  interests  over  the  fiery, 
impulsive  nature  of  the  Spaniard,  was  not  clear  to  a  pass 
ing  observer.  In  either  case  it  was  a  prudent  course. 

If,  in  the  darkened  streets  —  or  rather  lanes  —  of  Bar 
celona,  I  saw  some  suggestive  pictures ;  if  the  court-yard 
of  the  cathedral,  with  its  fountains  and  orange  -  trees, 
seemed  a  thousand  miles  removed  from  the  trade  and 
manufacture  of  the  city ;  if  the  issuing  into  sunshine  on 
the  mole  was  like  a  blow  in  the  eyes,  to  which  the  sapphire 
bloom  of  the  Mediterranean  became  a  healing  balm ;  and 
if  the  Rambla,  towards  evening,  changed  into  a  shifting 
diorama  of  color  and  cheerful  life,  —  none  of  these  things 
inclined  me  to  remain  longer  than  the  preparation  for  my 
further  journey  required.  Before  reaching  the  city,  I  had 
caught  a  glimpse,  far  up  the  valley  of  the  Llobregat,  ol  a 
high,  curiously  serrated  mountain,  and  that  old  book  of  the 
"  Wonders  of  the  World"  (now,  alas !  driven  from  the 


160  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

library  of  childhood)  opened  its  pages  and  showed  its 
rough  woodcuts,  in  memory,  to  tell  me  what  the  mountain 
was.  How  many  times  has  that  wonderful  book  been  the 
chief  charm  of  my  travels,  causing  me  to  forget  Sulpicius 
on  the  JEgean  Sea,  Byron  in  Italy,  and  Humboldt  in  Mex 
ico ! 

To  those  who  live  in  Barcelona,  Montserrat  has  become 
a  common-place,  the  resort  of  Sunday  excursions  and  pic 
nics,  one  fourth  devotional,  and  three  fourths  epicurean. 
Wild,  mysterious,  almost  inaccessible  as  it  stands  in  one's 
fancy,  it  sinks  at  this  distance  into  the  very  material  atmos 
phere  of  railroad  and  omnibus  ;  but,  for  all  that,  we  are 
not  going  to  give  it  up,  though  another  "  Wonder  of  the 
World"  should  go  by  the  board.  Take  the  Tarragona 
train  then  with  rne,  on  a  cloudless  afternoon.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  scattered  suburban  blocks  are  left  behind,  and 
we  enter  the  belt  of  villas,  with  their  fountained  terraces 
and  tropical  gardens.  More  and  more  the  dark  red  earth 
shows  through  the  thin  foliage  of  the  olives,  as  the  hills 
draw  nearer,  and  it  finally  gives  color  to  the  landscapes. 
The  vines  covering  the  levels  and  lower  slopes  are  won 
derfully  luxuriant ;  but  we  can  see  how  carefully  they  are 
cultivated.  Hedges  of  aloe  and  cactus  divide  them  ;  here 
and  there  some  underground  cavern  has  tumbled  in,  let 
ting  down  irregular  tracts  of  soil,  and  the  vines  still  flour 
ish  at  the  bottom  of  the  pits  thus  made.  As  the  plain 
shrinks  to  a  valley,  the  hills  on  either  side  ascend  into 
rounded  summits,  which  begin  to  be  dark  with  pine  for 
ests  ;  villages  with  square,  brown  church-towers  perch  on 
the  lower  heights  ;  cotton-mills  draw  into  their  service  the 
scanty  waters  of  the  river,  and  the  appearance  of  cheerful, 
thrifty  labor  increases  as  the  country  becomes  rougher. 

All  this  time  the  serrated  mountain  is  drawing  nearer, 
and  breaking  into  a  wilder  confusion  of  pinnacles.  It  stands 
alone,  planted  across  the  base  of  a  triangular  tract  of  open 
country,  —  a  strange,  solitary,  exiled  peak,  drifted  away 


FROM   PERPIGXAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  161 

in  the  beginning  of  things  from  its  brethren  of  the  Pyre 
nees,  and  stranded  in  a  different  geological  period.  This 
circumstance  must  have  long  ago  impressed  the  inhabit 
ants  of  the  region  —  even  in  the  ante-historic  ages.  When 
Christianity  rendered  a  new  set  of  traditions  necessary, 
the  story  arose  that  the  mountain  was  thus  split  and  shat 
tered  at  the  moment  when  Christ  breathed  his  last  on  the 
cross  of  Calvary.  This  is  still  the  popular  belief;  but  the 
singular  formation  of  Montserrat,  independent  of  it,  was 
sufficient  to  fix  the  anchoretic  tastes  of  the  early  Christians. 
It  is  set  apart  by  Nature,  not  only  towering  above  all  the 
surrounding  heights,  but  drawing  itself  haughtily  away 
from  contact  with  them,  as  if  conscious  of  its  earlier  ori 
gin. 

At  the  station  of  Martorel  I  left  the  train,  and  took  a 
coach  which  was  in  waiting  for  the  village  of  Collbato,  at 
the  southern  base  of  the  mountain.  My  companion  in  the 
coupe  was  a  young  cotton-manufacturer,  who  assured  me 
that  in  Spain  the  sky  and  soil  were  good,  but  the  entresol 
(namely,  the  human  race)  was  bad.  The  interior  was 
crowded  with  country-women,  each  of  whom  seemed  to 
have  four  large  baskets.  I  watched  the  driver  for  half  an 
hour  attempting  to  light  a  broken  cigar,  and  then  rewarded 
his  astonishing  patience  with  a  fresh  one,  whereby  we  be 
came  good  friends.  Such  a  peaceful  light  lay  upon  the 
landscape,  the  people  were  so  cheerful,  the  laborers  worked 
so  quietly  in  the  vineyards,  that  the  thought  of  a  political 
disturbance  the  day  before  seemed  very  absurd.  The 
olive-trees,  which  clothed  the  hills  wherever  their  bony 
roots  could  find  the  least  lodgment  of  soil,  were  of  re 
markably  healthy  and  vigorous  growth,  and  the  regular 
cubic  form  into  which  they  were  pruned  marked  the  climb 
ing  terraces  with  long  lines  of  gray  light,  as  the  sun 
slanted  across  them. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  Spaniard,  as  I  noticed  this  peculiar 
ity,  "  the  entresol  is  a  little  better  in  this  neighborhood  than 


162  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

elsewhere  in  Spain.  The  people  cut  the  trees  into  this 
shape  in  order  that  they  may  become  more  compact  and 
produce  better ;  besides  which,  the  fruit  is  more  easily 
gathered.  In  all  those  orchards  you  will  not  find  a  decayed 
or  an  unhealthy  tree  ;  such  are  dug  up  and  burned,  and 
young  ones  planted  in  their  place." 

At  the  village  of  Esparaguerra  the  other  passengers 
left,  and  I  went  on  towards  Collbatd  alone.  But  I  had 
Montserrat  for  company,  towering  more  grandly,  more 
brokenly,  from  minute  to  minute.  Every  change  in  the 
foreground  gave  me  a  new  picture.  Now  it  was  a  clump 
of  olives  with  twisted  trunks  ;  now  an  aloe,  lifting  its  giant 
candelabrum  of  blossoms  from  the  edge  of  a  rock  ;  now  a 
bank  of  dull  vermilion  earth,  upon  which  goats  were  hang 
ing.  The  upper  spires  of  the  mountain  disappeared  be 
hind  its  basal  buttresses  of  gray  rock,  a  thousand  feet  in 
perpendicular  height,  and  the  sinking  sun,  as  it  crept  west 
ward,  edged  these  with  sharp  lines  of  light.  Up,  under 
the  tremendous  cliffs,  and  already  in  shadow,  lay  Collbato, 
and  I  was  presently  set  down  at  the  gate  of  the  posada. 

Don  Pedro,  the  host,  came  forward  to  meet  and  welcome 
me,  and  his  pretty  daughter,  sitting  on  the  steps,  rose  up 
and  dropped  a  salute.  In  the  entrance  hall  I  read,  painted 
in  large  letters  on  the  wall,  the  words  of  St.  Augustine  : 
" In  necessaries  unitas ;  in  dubiis  libertas  ;  in  omnibus, caritas" 
Verily,  thought  I,  Don  Pedro  must  be  a  character.  I  had 
no  sooner  comfortably  seated  myself  in  the  doorway  to 
contemplate  the  exquisite  evening  landscape,  which  the 
Mediterranean  bounded  in  the  distance,  and  await  my  sup 
per,  than  Don  Pedro  ordered  his  daughter  to  bring  the 
guests'  book,  and  then  betook  himself  to  the  task  of  run 
ning  down  a  lean  chicken.  In  the  record  of  ten  years  I 
found  that  Germans  were  the  most  frequent  visitors  ;  Amer 
icans  appeared  but  thrice.  One  party  of  the  latter  regis 
tered  themselves  as  u  gentlemen,"  and  stated  that  they  had 
seen  the  "  promanent  points,"  —  which  gave  occasion  to  a 


FROM    PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  163 

later  Englishman  to  comment  upon  the  intelligence  of 
American  gentlemen.  The  host's  daughter,  Pepita,  was 
the  theme  of  praise  in  prose  and  raptures  in  poetry. 

"Are  you  Pepita?"  I  asked,  turning  to  the  girl,  who  sat 
on  the  steps  before  me,  gazing  into  the  evening  sky  with  an 
expression  of  the  most  indolent  happiness.  I  noticed  for 
the  first  time,  and  admired,  her  firm,  regular,  almost  Roman 
profile  and  the  dark  masses  of  real  hair  on  her  head.  Her 
attitude,  also,  was  very  graceful,  and  she  would  have  been, 
to  impressible  eyes,  a  phantom  of  delight,  but  for  the  un 
graceful  fact  that  she  inveterately  scratched  herself  when 
ever  and  wherever  a  flea  happened  to  bite. 

"  No,  senor,"  she  answered ;  "  I  am  Carmen.  Pepita 
was  married  first,  and  then  Mariquita.  Angelita  and  my 
self  are  the  only  ones  at  home." 

"  I  see  there  is  also  a  poem  to  Angelita,"  I  remarked, 
turning  over  the  last  leaves. 

"  O,  that  was  a  poet ! "  said  she,  —  "a  funny  man  !  Every 
body  knows  him :  he  writes  for  the  theatre,  and  all  that  is 
about  some  eggs  which  Angelita  fried  for  him.  "We  can't 
understand  it  all,  but  we  think  it's  good-natured." 

Here  the  mother  came,  not  as  duenna,  but  as  companion, 
with  her  distaff  and  spindle,  and  talked  and  span  until  I 
could  no  longer  distinguish  the  thread  against  her  gray 
dress.  AVhen  the  lean  chicken  was  set  before  me,  Don 
Pedro  announced  that  a  mule  and  guide  would  be  in  readi 
ness  at  sunrise,  and  I  could,  if  I  chose,  mount  to  the  top 
most  peak  of  San  Geronimo.  In  the  base  of  the  moun 
tain,  near  Collbato,  there  are  spacious  caverns,  which  most 
travellers  feel  bound  to  visit ;  but  I  think  that  six  or  seven 
caves,  one  coal  mine,  and  one  gold  mine  are  enough  for  a 
life-time,  and  have  renounced  any  further  subterranean  re 
searches.  Why  delve  into  those  dark,  moist,  oppressive 
crypts,  when  the  blessed  sunshine  of  years  shows  one  so 
little  of  the  earth  and  of  human  life  ?  Let  any  one  that 
chooses  come  and  explore  the  caverns  of  Montserrat,  and 


164  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

then  tell  me  (as  people  have  a  passion  for  doing),  "  You 
missed  the  best ! "  The  best  is  that  with  which  one  is  satis 
fied. 

Instead  of  five  o'clock,  when  I  should  have  been  called, 
I  awoke  naturally  at  six,  and  found  that  Don  Pedro  had 
set  out  for  San  Geronimo  four  hours  before,  while  neither 
guide  nor  mule  was  forthcoming.  The  old  woman  pointed 
to  some  specks  far  up  in  the  shadow  of  the  cliffs,  which 
she  assured  me  were  travellers,  and  would  arrive  with 
mules  in  fifteen  minutes.  But  I  applied  the  words  in  duUis 
libertas,  and  insisted  on  an  immediate  animal  and  guide, 
both  of  which,  somewhat  to  my  surprise,  were  produced. 
The  black  mule  was  strong,  and  the  lank  old  Catalan  shoul 
dered  my  heavy  valise  and  walked  off  without  a  murmur. 
The  sun  was  already  hot;  but  once  risen  above  the  last 
painfully  constructed  terrace  of  olives,  and  climbing  the 
stony  steep,  we  dipped  into  the  cool  shadow  of  the  moun 
tain.  The  path  was  difficult  but  not  dangerous,  winding 
upward  through  rocks  fringed  with  dwarf  ilex,  box,  and 
mastic,  which  made  the  air  fragrant.  Thyme,  wild  flax, 
and  aconite  blossomed  in  the  crevices.  The  botany  of  the 
mountain  is  as  exceptional  as  its  geology ;  it  includes  five 
hundred  different  species. 

The  box-tree,  which  my  Catalan  guide  called  bosch  in  his 
dialect,  is  a  reminiscence,  wherever  one  sees  it,  of  Italy 
and  Greece  —  of  ancient  culture  and  art.  Its  odor,  as 
Holmes  admirably  says,  suggests  eternity.  If  it  was  not 
the  first  plant  that  sprang  up  on  the  cooling  planet,  it 
ought  to  have  been.  Its  glossy  mounds,  and  rude,  stat 
uesque  clumps,  which  often  seem  struggling  to  mould 
themselves  into  human  shape,  cover  with  beauty  the  ter 
rible  rocks  of  Montserrat.  M.  Delavigne  had  warned  me 
of  the  dangers  of  the  path  I  was  pursuing,  —  walls  on  one 
side,  and  chasms  a  thousand  feet  deep  on  the  other,  —  but 
lhe  box  everywhere  shaped  itself  into  protecting  figures, 
and  whispered  as  I  went  by,  "  Never  fear ;  if  you  slip,  I 
will  hold  you ! " 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  165 

The  mountain  is  an  irregular  cone,  about  thirty-five  hun 
dred  feet  in  height,  and  cleft  down  the  middle  by  a  torrent 
which  breaks  through  its  walls  on  the  northeastern  side. 
It  presents  a  perpendicular  face,  which  seems  inaccessible, 
for  the  shelves  between  the  successive  elevations,  when 
seen  from  below,  appear  as  narrow  fringes  of  vegetation, 
growing  out  of  one  unbroken  wall.  They  furnish,  indeed, 
but  scanty  room  for  the  bridle-path,  which  at  various  points 
is  both  excavated  and  supported  by  arches  of  masonry. 
After  nearly  an  hour,  I  found  myself  over  Collbatd,  upon 
the  roofs  of  which,  it  seemed,  I  might  fling  a  stone.  At 
the  next  angle  of  the  mountain,  the  crest  was  attained,  and 
I  stood  between  the  torn  and  scarred  upper  wilderness  of 
Montserrat  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  broad,  airy  sweep  of 
landscape,  bounded  by  the  sea,  on  the  other.  To  the  north 
ward  a  similar  cape  thrust  out  its  sheer  walls  against  the 
dim,  dissolving  distances,  and  it  was  necessary  to  climb 
along  the  sides  of  the  intervening  gulf,  which  sank  under 
me  into  depths  of  shadow.  Every  step  of  the  way  was 
inspiring,  for  there  was  the  constant  threat,  without  the 
reality,  of  danger.  My  mule  paced  securely  along  the 
giddy  brinks;  and  through  the  path  seemed  to  terminate  fifty 
paces  ahead,  I  was  always  sure  to  find  a  loop-hole  or  coigne 
of  vantage  which  the  box  and  mastic  had  hidden  from  sight. 
So  in  another  hour  the  opposite  foreland  was  attained,  and 
from  its  crest  I  saw,  all  along  the  northern  horizon,  the 
snowy  wall  of  the  Pyrenees. 

Here  a  path  branched  off  to  the  peak  of  San  Geronimo, 
—  a  two  hours'  clamber  through  an  absolute  desert  of  rock. 
My  guide,  although  panting  and  sweating  with  his  load, 
proposed  the  ascent ;  but  in  the  film  of  heat  which  over 
spread  the  land  I  should  have  only  had  a  wider  panorama 
in  which  all  distinct  forms  were  lost,  —  vast,  no  doubt,  but 
as  blurred  and  intangible  as  a  metaphysical  treatise.  I 
judged  it  better  to  follow  the  example  of  a  pious  peasant 
and  his  wife  whom  we  had  overtaken,  and  who,  setting 


166  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

their  faces  toward  the  renowned  monastery,  murmured  an 
Ave  from  time  to  time.  Erelong,  on  emerging  from  the 
thickets,  we  burst  suddenly  upon  one  of  the  wildest  and 
most  wonderful  pictures  I  ever  beheld.  A  tremendous 
wall  of  rock  arose  in  front,  crowned  by  colossal  turrets, 
pyramids,  clubs,  pillars,  and  ten-pin  shaped  masses,  which 
were  drawn  singly,  or  in  groups  of  incredible  distortion, 
against  the  deep  blue  of  the  sky.  At  the  foot  of  the  rock, 
the  buildings  of  the  monastery,  huge  and  massive,  the 
church,  the  houses  for  pilgrims,  and  the  narrow  gardens, 
completely  filled  and  almost  overhung  a  horizontal  shelf 
of  the  mountain,  under  which  it  again  fell  sheer  away, 
down,  down  into  misty  depths,  the  bottom  of  which  was 
hidden  from  sight.  I  dropped  from  the  mule,  sat  down 
upon  the  grass,  and,  under  pretense  of  sketching,  studied 
this  picture  for  an  hour.  In  all  the  galleries  of  memory  I 
could  find  nothing  resembling  it. 

The  descriptions  of  Montserrat  must  have  made  a  power 
ful  impression  upon  Goethe's  mind,  since  he  deliberately 
appropriated  the  scenery  for  the  fifth  act  of  the  Second 
Part  of  Faust.  Goethe  was  in  the  steadfast  habit  of  choos 
ing  a  local  and  actual  habitation  for  the  creations  of  his 
imagination  ;  his  landscapes  were  always  either  painted 
from  nature,  or  copied  from  the  sketch-books  of  others. 
The  marvelous  choruses  of  the  fifth  act  floated  through 
my  mind  as  I  drew ;  the  "  Pater  Ecstaticus  "  hovered  in  the 
sunny  air,  the  anchorites  chanted  from  their  caves,  and  the 
mystic  voices  of  the  undeveloped  child-spirits  came  between, 
like  the  breathing  of  an  JEolian  harp.  I  suspect  that  the 
sanctity  of  the  mountain  really  depends  as  much  upon  its 
extraordinary  forms,  as  upon  the  traditions  which  have  been 
gradually  attached  to  it.  These  latter,  however,  are  so 
strange  and  grotesque,  that  they  could  only  be  accepted 
here. 

The  monastery  owes  its  foundation  to  a  miraculous  statue 
of  the  Virgin,  sculptured  by  St.  Luke,  and  brought  to  Spain 


FROM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MONTSERRAT.  167 

by  no  less  a  personage  than  St.  Peter.  In  the  year  880, 
some  shepherds  who  had  climbed  the  mountain  in  search  of 
stray  goats  heard  celestial  harmonies  among  the  rocks.  This 
phenomenon  coming  to  the  ears  of  Bishop  Gondemar,  he 
climbed  to  the  spot,  and  was  led  by  the  music  to  the  mouth 
of  a  cave,  which  exhaled  a  delicious  perfume.  There,  en 
shrined  in  light,  lay  the  sacred  statue.  Gondemar  and  his 
priests,  chanting  as  they  went,  set  out  for  Manresa,  the 
seat  of  the  diocese,  carrying  it  with  them ;  but  on  reaching 
a  certain  spot,  they  found  it  impossible  to  move  farther. 
The  statue  obstinately  refused  to  accompany  them  —  which 
was  taken  as  a  sign  that  there,  and  nowhere  else,  the  shrine 
should  be  built.  Just  below  the  monastery  there  still 
stands  a  cross,  with  the  inscription,  "  Here  the  Holy  Image 
declared  itself  immovable,  880." 

The  chapel  when  built  was  intrusted  to  the  pious  care 
of  Fray  Juan  Garin,  whose  hermitage  is  pointed  out  to  you, 
on  a  peak  which  seems  accessible  only  to  the  eagle.  The 
Devil,  however,  interfered,  as  he  always  does  in  such  cases. 
Ha  first  entered  into  Riquilda,  the  daughter  of  the  Count  of 
Barcelona,  and  then  declared  through  her  mouth  that  he 
would  not  quit  her  body  except  by  the  order  of  Juan  Garin, 
the  hermit  of  Montserrat.  Riquilda  was  therefore  sent  to 
the  mountain  and  given  into  the  hermit's  charge.  A  temp 
tation  similar  to  that  of  St.  Anthony  followed,  but  with  ex 
actly  the  opposite  result.  In  order  to  conceal  his  sin,  Juan 
Garin  cut  off  Riquilda's  head,  buried  her,  and  fled.  Over 
taken  by  remorse,  he  made  his  way  to  Rome,  confessed  him 
self  to  the  Pope,  and  prayed  for  a  punishment  proportioned 
to  his  crime.  He  was  ordered  to  become  a  beast,  never 
lifting  his  face  towards  heaven,  until  the  hour  when  God 
Himself  should  signify  his  pardon. 

Juan  Garin  went  forth  from  the  Papal  presence  on  his 
hands  and  knees,  crawled  back  to  Montserrat,  and  there 
lived  seven  years  as  a  wild  animal,  eating  grass  and  bark, 
and  never  lifting  his  face  towards  heaven.  At  the  end  of 


168  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

this  time  his  body  was  entirely  covered  with  hair,  and  it  so 
happened  that  the  hunters  of  the  count  snared  him  as  a 
strange  beast,  put  a  chain  around  his  neck,  and  took  him 
to  Barcelona.  In  the  mansion  of  the  Count  there  was  an 
infant  only  five  months  old,  in  its  nurse's  arms.  No  sooner 
had  the  child  beheld  the  supposed  animal,  than  it  gave  a 
loud  cry  and  exclaimed :  "  Rise  up.  Juan  Garin ;  God  has 
pardoned  thee  ! "  Then,  to  the  astonishment  of  all,  the 
beast  arose  and  spoke  in  a  human  tongue.  He  told  his 
story,  and  the  Count  set  out  at  once  with  him  to  the  spot 
where  Kiquilda  was  buried.  They  opened  the  grave  and 
the  maiden  rose  up  alive,  with  only  a  rosy  mark,  like  a 
thread,  around  her  neck.  In  commemoration  of  so  many 
miracles,  the  Count  founded  the  monastery. 

At  present,  the  monks  retain  but  a  fragment  of  their 
former  wealth  and  power.  Their  number  is  reduced  to 
nineteen,  which  is  barely  enough  to  guard  the  shrine,  per 
form  their  offices,  and  prepare  and  bless  the  rosaries  and 
other  articles  of  devotional  traffic.  I  visited  the  church, 
courts,  and  corridors,  but  took  no  pains  to  get  sight  of  the 
miraculous  statue.  I  have  already  seen  both  the  painting 
and  the  sculpture  of  St.  Luke,  and  think  him  one  of  the 
worst  artists  that  ever  existed.  Moreover,  the  place  is  fast 
assuming  a  secular,  not  to  say  profane  air.  There  is  a 
modern  restaurant,  with  bill  of  fare  and  wine  list,  inside 
the  gate,  ticket-office  for  travellers,  and  a  daily  omnibus  to 
the  nearest  railway  station.  Ladies  in  black  mantillas 
lounge  about  the  court-yards,  gentlemen  smoke  on  the  bal 
conies,  and  only  the  brown-faced  peasant  pilgrims,  arriving 
with  weary  feet,  enter  the  church  with  an  expression  of  awe 
and  of  unquestioning  faith.  The  enormous  wealth  which 
the  monastery  once  possessed  —  the  offering  of  kings  — 
has  disappeared  in  the  vicissitudes  of  Spanish  history,  the 
French,  in  1811,  being  the  last  pillagers.  Since  then,  the 
treasures  of  gold  and  jewels  have  not  returned  ;  for  the 
crowns  offered  to  the  Virgin  by  the  city  of  Barcelona  and 


FKOM   PERPIGNAN   TO   MQNTSEBBAT.  169 

by  a  rich  American  are  of  gilded  silver,  set  with  diamonds 
of  paste  ! 

I  loitered  for  hours  on  the  narrow  terraces  around  the 
monastery,  constantly  finding  some  new  and  strange  com 
bination  of  forms  in  the  architecture  of  the  mountain. 
The  bright  silver-gray  of  the  rock  contrasted  finely  with 
the  dark  masses  of  eternal  box,  and  there  was  an  endless 
play  of  light  and  shade  as  the  sun  burst  suddenly  through 
some  unsuspected  gap,  or  hid  himself  behind  one  of  the 
giant  ten-pins  of  the  summit.  The  world  below  swam  in 
dim  red  undulations,  for  the  color  of  the  soil  showed  every 
where  through  its  thin  clothing  of  olive-trees.  In  hue  as 
in  form,  Montserrat  had  no  fellowship  with  the  surround 
ing  region. 

The  descent  on  the  northern  side  is  far  less  picturesque, 
inasmuch  as  you  are  perched  upon  the  front  seat  of  an 
omnibus,  and  have  an  excellent  road  —  a  work  of  great 
cost  and  labor  —  the  whole  way.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
you  skirt  the  base  of  a  number  of  the  detached  pillars  and 
pyramids  into  which  the  mountain  separates,  and  gain  fresh 
pictures  of  its  remarkable  structure.  There  is  one  isolated 
shaft,  visible  at  a  great  distance,  which  I  should  judge  to 
be  three  hundred  feet  in  height  by  forty  or  fifty  in  diameter. 
At  the  western  end,  the  outline  is  less  precipitous,  and 
here  the  fields  of  vine  and  olive  climb  mucn  higher  than 
elsewhere.  In  an  hour  from  the  time  of  leaving  the  mon 
astery,  we  were  below  the  last  rampart,  rolling  through 
dust  in  the  hot  valley  of  the  Llobregat,  and  tracing  the 
course  of  the  invisible  road  across  the  walls  of  Montserrat, 
with  a  feeling  of  incredulity  that  we  had  really  descended 
from  such  a  point. 

At  the  village  of  Montrisol,  on  the  river,  there  is  a  large 
cotton  factory.  The  doors  opened  as  we  approached,  and 
the  workmen  came  forth,  their  day's  labor  done.  Men  and 
women,  boys  and  girls,  in  red  caps  and  sandals,  or  bare- 
beaded  and  barefooted,  they  streamed  merrily  along  the 


170  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

road,  teeth  and  eyes  flashing  as  they  chatted  and  sang. 
They  were  no  pale,  melancholy  factory  slaves,  but  joyous 
and  light-hearted  children  of  labor,  and,  it  seemed  to  me, 
the  proper  successors  of  the  useless  idlers  in  the  monastery 
of  Montserrat.  Up  there,  on  the  mountain,  a  system,  all- 
powerful  in  the  past,  was  swiftly  dying  ;  here,  in  the  valley, 
was  the  first  life  of  the  only  system  that  can  give  a  future 
to  Spain. 


BALEARIC  DAYS, 
I. 


As  the  steamer  Mallorca  slowly  moved  out  of  the  har 
bor  of  Barcelona,  I  made  a  rapid  inspection  of  the  passen 
gers  gathered  on  deck,  and  found  that  I  was  the  only 
foreigner  among  them.  Almost  without  exception  they 
were  native  Majorcans,  returning  from  trips  of  business  or 
pleasure  to  the  Continent.  They  spoke  no  language  ex 
cept  Spanish  and  Catalan,  and  held  fast  to  all  the  little 
habits  and  fashions  of  their  insular  life.  If  anything  more 
had  been  needed  to  show  me  that  I  was  entering  upon  un 
trodden  territory,  it  was  supplied  by  the  joyous  surprise  of 
the  steward  when  I  gave  him  a  fee.  This  fact  reconciled 
me  to  my  isolation  on  board,  and  its  attendant  awkward 
ness. 

I  knew  not  why  I  should  have  chosen  to  visit  the  Bale 
aric  Islands,  unless  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  lie  so 
much  aside  from  the  highways  of  travel,  and  are  not  rep 
resented  in  the  journals  and  sketch-books  of  tourists.  If 
any  one  had  asked  me  what  I  expected  to  see,  I  should 
have  been  obliged  to  confess  my  ignorance  ;  for  the  few 
dry  geographical  details  which  I  possessed  were  like  the 
chemical  analysis  of  a  liquor  wherefrom  no  one  can  recon 
struct  the  taste.  The  flavor  of  a  land  is  a  thing  quite 
apart  from  its  statistics.  There  is  no  special  guide-book 
for  the  islands,  and  the  slight  notices  in  the  works  on 
Spain  only  betray  the  haste  of  the  authors  to  get  over  a 
field  with  which  they  are  unacquainted.  But  this  very 
circumstance,  for  me,  had  grown  into  a  fascination.  One 
gets  tired  of  studying  the  bill  of  fare  in  advance  of  the 
repast.  When  the  sun  and  the  Spanish  coast  had  set  to 
gether  behind  the  placid  sea,  I  went  to  my  berth  with  the 


174  BY-WAYS   OF   EUEOPE. 

delightful  certainty  that  the  sun  of  the  morrow,  and  of 
many  days  thereafter,  would  rise  upon  scenes  and  adven 
tures  which  could  not  be  anticipated. 

The  distance  from  Barcelona  to  Palma  is  about  a  hun 
dred  and  forty  miles ;  so  the  morning  found  us  skirting 
the  southwestern  extremity  of  Majorca  —  a  barren  coast, 
thrusting  low  headlands  of  gray  rock  into  the  sea,  and  hills 
covered  with  parched  and  stunted  chaparral  in  the  rear. 
The  twelfth  century,  in  the  shape  of  a  crumbling  Moorish 
watch-tower,  alone  greeted  us.  As  we  advanced  eastward 
into  the  Bay  of  Palma,  however,  the  wild  shrubbery 
melted  into  plantations  of  olive,  solitary  houses  of  fisher 
men  nestled  in  the  coves,  and  finally  a  village,  of  those 
soft  ochre-tints  which  are  a  little  brighter  than  the  soil, 
appeared  on  the  slope  of  a  hill.  In  front,  through  the 
pale  morning  mist  which  still  lay  upon  the  sea,  I  saw  the 
cathedral  of  Palma,  looming  grand  and  large  beside  the 
towers  of  other  churches,  and  presently,  gliding  past  a 
mile  or  two  of  country  villas  and  gardens,  we  entered  the 
crowded  harbor. 

Inside  the  mole  there  was  a  multitude  of  the  light  crafl 
of  the  Mediterranean,  —  xebecs,  feluccas,  speronaras,  or 
however  they  may  be  termed,  —  with  here  and  there  a  brig- 
antine  which  had  come  from  beyond  the  Pillars  of  Her 
cules.  Our  steamer  drew  into  her  berth  beside  the  quay, 
and  after  a  very  deliberate  review  by  the  port  physician  we 
were  allowed  to  land.  I  found  a  porter,  Arab  in  everything 
but  costume,  and  followed  him  through  the  water-gate  into 
the  half-awake  city.  My  destination  was  the  Inn  of  the 
"  Four  Nations,"  where  I  was  cordially  received,  and  after 
wards  roundly  swindled,  by  a  French  host.  My  first  de 
mand  was  for  a  native  attendant,  not  so  much  from  any  need 
of  guide  as  simply  to  become  more  familiar  with  the  people 
through  him  ;  but  I  was  told  that  no  such  serviceable  spirit 
was  to  be  had  in  the  place.  Strangers  are  so  rare  that  a 
class  of  people  who  live  upon  them  has  not  yet  been  created. 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  175 

"  But  how  shall  I  find  the  Palace  of  the  Government,  or 
the  monastery  of  San  Domingo,  or  anything  else  ? "  1 
asked. 

"  0,  we  will  give  you  directions,  so  that  you  cannot  miss 
them,"  said  the  host ;  but  he  laid  before  me  such  a  confu 
sion  of  right  turnings  and  left  turnings,  ups  and  downs, 
that  I  became  speedily  bewildered,  and  set  forth,  deter 
mined  to  let  the  spirit  in  my  feet  guide  me.  A  labyrinthine 
place  is  Palma,  and  my  first  walks  through  the  city  were 
so  many  games  of  chance.  The  streets  are  very  narrow, 
changing  their  direction,  it  seemed  to  me,  at  every  tenth 
step ;  and  whatever  landmark  one  may  select  at  the  start 
is  soon  shut  from  view  by  the  high,  dark  houses.  At  first, 
I  was  quite  astray,  but  little  by  little  I  regained  the  lost 
points  of  the  compass. 

After  having  had  the  Phoenicians.  Greeks,  Carthagin 
ians,  Romans,  Vandals,  and  Saracens  as  masters,  Majorca 
was  first  made  Spanish  by  King  Jaime  of  Aragon,  the 
Conquistador,  in  the  year  1235.  For  a  century  after  the 
conquest  it  was  an  independent  kingdom,  and  one  of  its 
kings  was  slain  by  the  English  bowmen  at  the  battle  of 
Crecy.  The  Spanish  element  has  absorbed,  but  not  yet 
entirely  obliterated,  the  characteristics  of  the  earlier  races 
who  inhabited  the  island.  Were  ethnology  a  more  posi 
tively  developed  science,  we  might  divide  and  classify  this 
confused  inheritance  of  character ;  as  it  is,  we  vaguely  feel 
the  presence  of  something  quaint,  antique,  and  unusual,  in 
walking  the  streets  of  Palma,  and  mingling  with  the  inhab 
itants.  The  traces  of  Moorish  occupation  are  still  notice 
able  everywhere.  Although  the  Saracenic  architecture  no 
longer  exists  in  its  original  forms,  its  details  may  be  de 
tected  in  portals,  court-yards,  and  balconies,  in  almost 
every  street.  The  conquerors  endeavored  to  remodel  the 
city,  but  in  doing  so  they  preserved  the  very  spirit  which 
they  sought  to  destroy. 

My  wanderings,  after  all,  were    not  wholly  undirected. 


17o  BY-WAVS   OF   EUROPE. 

I  found  an  intelligent  guide,  who  was  at  the  same  time  an 
old  acquaintance.  The  whirligig  of  time  brings  about,  not 
merely  its  revenges,  but  also  its  compensations  and  coinci 
dences.  Twenty-two  years  ago,  when  I  was  studying  Ger 
man  as  a  boy  in  the  old  city  of  Frankfort,  guests  from  the 
south  of  France  came  to  visit  the  amiable  family  with 
whom  I  was  residing.  They  were  M.  Laurens,  a  painter 
and  a  musical  enthusiast,  his  wife,  and  Mademoiselle  Ro- 
salba,  a  daughter  as  fair  as  her  name.  Never  shall  I  for- 

t> 

get  the  curious  letter  which  the  artist  wrote  to  the  manager 
of  the  theatre,  requesting  that  Beethoven's  Fidelia  might 
be  given  (and  it  was !)  for  his  own  especial  benefit,  nor  the 
triumphant  air  with  which  he  came  to  us  one  day,  saying, 
"  I  have  something  of  most  precious,"  and  brought  forth, 
out  of  a  dozen  protecting  envelopes,  a  single  gray  hair  from 
Beethoven's  head.  Nor  shall  I  forget  how  Madame  Lau 
rens  taught  us  French  plays,  and  how  the  fair  Rosalba 
declaimed  Andre  Chenier  to  redeem  her  pawns ;  but  I 
might  have  forgotten  all  these  things,  had  it  not  been  for 
an  old  volume  *  which  turned  up  at  need,  and  which  gave 
me  information,  at  once  clear,  precise,  and  attractive,  con 
cerning  the  streets  and  edifices  of  Palma.  The  round, 
solid  head,  earnest  eyes,  and  abstracted  air  of  the  painter 
came  forth  distinct  from  the  limbo  of  things  overlaid  but 
never  lost,  and  went  with  me  through  the  checkered  blaze 
and  gloom  of  the  city. 

The  monastery  of  San  Domingo,  which  was  the  head 
quarters  of  the  Inquisition,  was  spared  by  the  progressive 
government  of  Mendizabal,  but  destroyed  by  the  people. 
Its  ruins  must  have  been  the  most  picturesque  sight  of 
Palma  ;  but  since  the  visit  of  M.  Laurens  they  have  been 
removed,  and  their  broken  vaults  and  revealed  torture- 
chambers  are  no  longer  to  be  seen.  There  are,  however, 

1  Souvenirs  (fun  Voynge  cT Art  a  f  Isle  de  Majorque.  Par  J.  B.  Lau 
rens. 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  177 

two  or  three  buildings  of  more  than  ordinary  interest.  The 
Oasa  Comistorial,  or  City  Hall,  is  a  massive  Palladian  pile 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  resembling  the  old  palaces  of 
Pisa  and  Florence,  except  in  the  circumstance  that  its 
roof  projects  at  least  ten  feet  beyond  the  front,  resting  on 
a  massive  cornice  of  carved  wood  with  curious  horizontal 
caryatides  in  the  place  of  brackets.  The  rich  burnt-sienna 
tint  of  the  carvings  contrasts  finely  with  the  golden-brown 
of  the  massive  marble  walls  —  a  combination  which  is 
shown  in  no  other  building  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The 
sunken  rosettes,  surrounded  by  raised  arabesque  borders, 
between  the  caryatides,  are  sculptured  with  such  a  care 
ful  reference  to  the  distance  at  which  they  must  be  seen, 
that  they  appear  as  firm  and  delicate  as  if  near  the  spec 
tator's  eye. 

The  Cathedral,  founded  by  the  Conquistador,  and  built 
upon,  at  intervals,  for  more  than  three  centuries,  is  not  yet 
finished.  It  stands  upon  a  natural  platform  of  rock,  over 
hanging  the  sea,  where  its  grand  dimensions  produce  the 
greatest  possible  effect.  In  every  view  of  Palma,  it  towers 
solidly  above  the  houses  and  bastioned  walls,  and  insists 
upon  having  the  sky  as  a  background  for  the  light  Gothic 
pinnacles  of  its  flying  buttresses.  The  government  has 
recently  undertaken  its  restoration,  and  a  new  front  of 
very  admirable  and  harmonious  design  is  about  half  com 
pleted.  The  soft  amber-colored  marble  of  Majorca  is  en 
riched  in  tint  by  exposure  to  the  air,  and  even  when  built 
in  large,  unrelieved  masses  retains  a  bright  and  cheerful 
character.  The  new  portion  of  the  cathedral,  like  the  old, 
has  but  little  sculpture,  except  in  the  portals ;  but  that 
little  is  so  elegant  that  a  greater  profusion  of  ornament 
would  seem  out  of  place. 

Passing  from  the  clear,  dazzling  day  into  the  interior,  one 
finds  himself,  at  first,  in  total  darkness  ;  and  the  dimen 
sions  of  the  nave  —  nearly  three  hundred  feet  in  length 
by  one  hundred  and  forty  in  height  —  are  amplified  by  the 

12 


178  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

gloom.  The  wind,  I  was  told,  came  through  the  windows 
on  the  sea  side  with  such  force  as  to  overturn  the  chalices, 
and  blow  out  the  tapers  on  the  altar,  whereupon  every 
opening  was  walled  up,  except  a  rose  at  the  end  of  the 
chancel,  and  a  few  slits  in  the  nave,  above  the  side-aisles. 
A  sombre  twilight,  like  that  of  a  stormy  day,  fills  the  edi 
fice.  Here  the  rustling  of  stoles  and  the  muttering  of 
prayers  suggest  incantation  rather  than  worship  ;  the  or 
gan  has  a  hollow,  sepulchral  sound  of  lamentation  ;  and 
there  is  a  spirit  of  mystery  and  terror  in  the  stale,  clammy 
air.  The  place  resembles  an  ante-chamber  of  Purgatory 
much  more  than  of  Heaven.  The  mummy  of  Don  Jaime 
II.,  son  of  the  Conquistador  and  first  king  of  Majorca,  is 
preserved  in  a  sarcophagus  of  black  marble.  This  is  the 
only  historic  monument  in  the  Cathedral,  unless  the  stran 
ger  chooses  to  study  the  heraldry  of  the  island  families 
from  their  shields  suspended  in  the  chapels. 

AVhen  I  returned  to  the  "  Four  Nations"  for  breakfast,  I 
found  at  the  table  a  gentleman  of  Palma,  who  invited  me 
to  sit  down  and  partake  of  his  meal.  For  the  first  time 
this  Spanish  custom,  which  really  seems  picturesque  and 
fraternal  when  coining  from  shepherds  or  muleteers  in  a 
mountain  inn,  struck  me  as  the  hollowest  of  forms.  The 
gentleman  knew  that  I  would  not  accept  his  invitation,  nor 
he  mine ;  he  knew,  moreover,  that  I  knew  he  did  not  wish 
me  to  accept  it.  The  phrase,  under  such  conditions,  be 
comes  a  cheat  which  offends  the  sacred  spirit  of  hospitality. 
How  far  the  mere  form  may  go  was  experienced  by  George 
Sand,  who  having  accepted  the  use  of  a  carriage  most  ear 
nestly  offered  to  her  by  a  Majorcan  count,  found  the  equip 
age  at  her  door,  it  is  true,  but  with  it  a  letter  expressing 
so  much  vexation,  that  she  was  forced  to  withdraw  her  ac 
ceptance  of  the  favor  at  once,  and  to  apologize  for  it !  I 
have  always  found  much  hospitality  among  the  common 
people  of  Spain,  and  I  doubt  not  that  the  spirit  exists  in 
all  classes ;  but  it  requires  some  practice  to  distinguish 


BALEARIC  DAYS.  179 

between  empty  phrase  and  the  courtesy  which  comes  from 
the  heart.  A  people  who  boast  of  some  special  virtue  gen 
erally  do  not  possess  it. 

My  own  slight  intercourse  with  the  Majorcans  was  very 
pleasant.  On  the  day  of  my  arrival,  I  endeavored  to  pro 
cure  a  map  of  the  island,  but  none  of  the  bookstores  pos 
sessed  the  article.  It  could  be  found  in  one  house  in  a 
remote  street,  and  one  of  the  shopmen  finally  sent  a  boy 
with  me  to  the  very  door.  When  I  offered  money  for  the 
service,  my  guide  smiled,  shook  his  head,  and  ran  away. 
The  map  was  more  than  fifty  years  old,  and  drawn  in  the 
style  of  two  centuries  ago,  with  groups  of  houses  for  the 
villages,  and  long  files  of  conical  peaks  for  the  mountains. 
The  woman  brought  it  'down,  yellow  and  dusty,  from  a 
dark  garret  over  the  shop,  and  seemed  as  delighted  with 
the  sale  as  if  she  had  received  money  for  useless  stock. 
In  the  streets,  the  people  inspected  me  curiously,  as  a 
stranger,  but  were  always  ready  to  go  out  of  their  way  to 
guide  me.  The  ground-floor  being  always  open,  all  the 
features  of  domestic  life  and  of  mechanical  labor  are  ex 
posed  to  the  public.  The  housewives,  the  masters  and 
apprentices,  busy  as  they  seem,  manage  to  keep  one  eye 
disengaged,  and  no  one  passes  before  them  without  notice. 
Cooking,  washing,  sewing,  tailoring,  shoemaking,  cooper 
ing,  rope  and  basket  making,  succeed  each  other,  as  one 
passes  through  the  narrow  streets.  In  the  afternoon,  the 
mechanics  frequently  come  forth  and  set  up  their  business 
in  the  open  air,  where  they  can  now  and  then  greet  a  coun 
try  acquaintance,  or  a  city  friend,  or  sweetheart. 

When  I  found  that  the  ruins  of  San  Domingo  had  been 
removed,  and  a  statue  of  Isabella  II.  erected  on  the  Ala- 
meda,  I  began  to  suspect  that  the  reign  of  old  things  was 
over  in  Majorca.  A  little  observation  of  the  people  made 
this  fact  more  evident.  The  island  costume  is  no  longer 
worn  by  the  young  men,  even  in  the  country ;  they  have 
passed  into  a  very  comical  transition  state.  Old  men, 


180  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

mounted  on  lean  asses  or  mules,  still  enter  the  gates  of 
Palma,  with  handkerchiefs  tied  over  their  shaven  crowns, 
and  long  gray  locks  falling  on  their  shoulders,  —  with 
short,  loose  jackets,  shawls  around  the  waist,  and  wide 
Turkish  trousers  gathered  at  the  knee.  Their  gaunt  brown 
legs  are  bare,  and  their  feet  protected  by  rude  sandals. 
Tall,  large-boned,  and  stern  of  face,  they  hint  both  of 
Vandal  and  of  Moslem  blood.  The  younger  men  are  of 
inferior  stature,  and  nearly  all  bow-legged.  They  have 
turned  the  flowing  trousers  into  modern  pantaloons,  the 
legs  of  which  are  cut  like  the  old-fashioned  gigot  sleeve, 
very  big  and  baggy  at  the  top,  and  tied  with  a  drawing- 
string  around  the  waist.  My  first  impression  was,  that  the 
men  had  got  up  in  a  great  hurry,  and  put  on  their  trousers 
hinder  end  foremost.  It  would  be  difficult  to  invent  a  cos 
tume  more  awkward  and  ungraceful  than  this. 

In  the  city  the  young  girls  wear  a  large  triangular  piece 
of  white  or  black  lace,  which  covers  the  hair,  and  tightly 
incloses  the  face,  being  fastened  under  the  chin  and  the 
ends  brought  down  to  a  point  on  the  breast.  Their  al 
mond-shaped  eyes  are  large  and  fine,  but  there  is  very  little 
positive  beauty  among  them.  Most  of  the  old  country 
women  are  veritable  hags,  and  their  appearance  is  not  im 
proved  by  the  broad-brimmed  stove-pipe  hats  which  they 
wear.  Seated  astride  on  their  donkeys,  between  panniers 
of  produce,  they  come  in  daily  from  the  plains  and  moun 
tains,  and  you  encounter  them  on  all  the  roads  leading  out 
of  Palma.  Few  of  the  people  speak  any  other  language 
than  the  Mallorquin,  a  variety  of  the  Catalan,  which,  from 
the  frequency  of  the  terminations  in  ch  and  te,  constantly 
suggests  the  old  Provencal  literature.  The  word  vitch 
(son)  is  both  Celtic  and  Slavonic.  Some  Arabic  terms 
are  also  retained,  though  fewer,  I  think,  than  in  Andalusia. 

In  the  afternoon  I  walked  out  into  the  country.  The 
wall,  on  the  land  side,  which  is  very  high  and  massive,  is 
pierced  by  five  guarded  gates.  The  dry  moat,  both  wide 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  181 

and  deep,  is  spanned  by  wooden  bridges,  after  crossing 
which  one  has  the  choice  of  a  dozen  highways,  all  scantily 
shaded  with  rows  of  ragged  mulberry-trees,  glaring  white 
in  the  sun  and  deep  in  impalpable  dry  dust.  But  the 
sea-breeze  blows  freshening  across  the  parched  land  ;  shad 
ows  of  light  clouds  cool  the  arid  mountains  in  the  distance  ; 
the  olives  roll  into  silvery  undulations  ;  a  palm  in  full,  re 
joicing  plumage  rustles  over  your  head  ;  and  the  huge 
spatulate  leaves  of  a  banana  in  the  nearest  garden  twist 
and  split  into  fringes.  There  is  no  languor  in  the  air,  no 
sleep  in  the  deluge  of  sunshine ;  the  landscape  is  active 
with  signs  of  work  and  travel.  Wheat,  wine,  olives,  al 
monds,  and  oranges  are  produced,  not  only  side  by  side, 
but  from  the  same  fields,  and  the  painfully  thorough  sys 
tem  of  cultivation  leaves  not  a  rood  of  the  soil  unused. 

I  had  chosen,  at  random,  a  road  which  led  me  west 
toward  the  nearest  mountains,  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour 
I  found  myself  at  the  entrance  of  a  valley.  Solitary  farm 
houses,  each  as  massive  as  the  tower  of  a  fortress  and  of 
the  color  of  sunburnt  gold,  studded  the  heights,  overlook 
ing  the  long  slopes  of  almond  orchards.  I  looked  about 
for  water,  in  order  to  make  a  sketch  of  the  scene ;  but  the 
bed  of  the  brook  was  as  dry  as  the  highway.  The  nearest 
house  toward  the  plain  had  a  splendid  sentinel  palm  beside 
its  door,  —  a  dream  of  Egypt,  which  beckoned  and  drew 
me  towards  it  with  a  glamour  I  could  not  resist.  Over  the 
wall  of  the  garden  the  orange-trees  lifted  their  mounds  of 
impenetrable  foliage  ;  and  the  blossoms  of  the  pomegran 
ates,  sprinkled  against  such  a  background,  were  like  coals 
of  fire.  The  fig-bearing  cactus  grew  about  the  house  in 
clumps  twenty  feet  high,  covered  with  pale-yellow  flowers. 
The  building  was  large  and  roomy,  with  a  court-yard, 
around  which  ran  a  shaded  gallery.  The  farmer  who  was 
issuing  therefrom  as  I  approached  wore  the  shawl  and 
Turkish  trousers  of  the  old  generation,  while  his  two  sons, 
reaping  in  the  adjoining  wheat-fields,  were  hideous  in  the 


182  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

modern  gigots.  Although  I  was  manifestly  an  intruder, 
the  old  man  greeted  me  respectfully,  and  passed  on  to  his 
work.  Three  boys  tended  a  drove  of  black  hogs  in  the 
stubble,  and  some  women  were  so  industriously  weeding 
and  hoeing  in  the  field  beyond,  that  they  scarcely  stopped 
to  cast  a  glance  upon  the  stranger.  There  was  a  grateful 
air  of  peace,  order,  and  contentment  about  the  place  ;  no 
one  seemed  to  be  suspicious,  or  even  surprised,  when  I 
seated  myself  upon  a  low  wall,  and  watched  the  laborers. 

The  knoll  upon  which  the  farm-house  stood  sloped  down 
gently  into  the  broad,  rich  plain  of  Pal  ma,  extending  many 
a  league  to  the  eastward.  Its  endless  orchards  made  a 
dim  horizon-line,  over  which  rose  the  solitary  double-headed 
mountain  of  Felaniche,  and  the  tops  of  some  peaks  near 
Arta.  The  city  wall  was  visible  on  my  right,  and  beyond 
it  a  bright  arc  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  features  of  the 
landscape,  in  fact,  were  so  simple,  that  I  fear  I  cannot 
make  its  charm  evident  to  the  reader.  Looking  over  the 
nearer  fields,  I  observed  two  peculiarities  of  Majorca,  upon 
which  depends  much  of  the  prosperity  of  the  island.  The 
wheat  is  certainly,  as  it  is  claimed  to  be,  the  finest  of  any 
Mediterranean  land.  Its  large,  perfect  grains  furnish  a 
flour  of  such  fine  quality  that  the  whole  produce  of  the 
island  is  sent  to  Spain  for  the  pastry  and  confectionery  of 
the  cities,  while  the  Majorcans  import  a  cheap,  inferior 
kind  in  its  place.  Their  fortune  depends  on  their  absti 
nence  from  the  good  things  which  Providence  has  given 
them.  Their  pork  is  greatly  superior  to  that  of  Spain,  and 
it  leaves  them  in  like  manner ;  their  best  wines  are  now 
bought  up  by  speculators  and  exported  for  the  fabrication 
of  sherry  ;  and  their  oil,  which  might  be  the  finest  in  the 
world,  is  so  injured  by  imperfect  methods  of  preservation 
that  it  might  pass  for  the  worst.  These  things,  however, 
give  them  no  annoyance.  Southern  races  are  sometimes 
indolent,  but  rarely  Epicurean  in  their  habits ;  it  is  the 
Northern  man  who  sighs  for  his  flesh-pots. 


BALEARIC  DAYS.  183 

I  walked  forward  between  the  fields  towards  another 
road,  and  came  upon  a  tract  which  had  just  been  ploughed 
and  planted  for  a  new  crop.  The  soil  was  ridged  in  a 
labyrinthine  pattern,  which  appeared  to  have  been  drawn 
with  square  and  rule.  But  more  remarkable  than  this  was 
the  difference  of  level,  so  slight  that  the  eye  could  not  pos 
sibly  detect  it,  by  which  the  slender  irrigating  streams 
were  conducted  to  every  square  foot  of  the  field,  without  a 
drop  being  needlessly  wasted.  The  system  is  an  inherit 
ance  from  the  Moors,  who  were  the  best  natural  engineers 
the  world  has  ever  known.  Water  is  scarce  in  Majorca, 
and  thus  every  stream,  spring,  rainfall  —  even  the  dew  of 
heaven  —  is  utilized.  Channels  of  masonry,  often  covered 
to  prevent  evaporation,  descend  from  the  mountains,  branch 
into  narrow  veins,  and  visit  every  farm  on  the  plain,  what 
ever  may  be  its  level.  Where  these  are  not  sufficient,  the 
rains  are  added  to  the  reservoir,  or  a  string  of  buckets, 
turned  by  a  mule,  lifts  the  water  from  a  well.  But  it  is  in 
the  economy  of  distributing  water  to  the  fields  that  the 
most  marvelous  skill  is  exhibited.  The  grade  of  the  sur 
face  must  not  only  be  preserved,  but  the  subtle,  tricksy 
spirit  of  water  so  delicately  understood  and  humored  that 
the  streams  shall  traverse  the  greatest  amount  of  soil  with 
the  least  waste  or  wear.  In  this  respect,  the  most  skillful 
application  of  science  could  not  surpass  the  achievements 
of  the  Majorcan  farmers. 

Working  my  way  homeward  through  the  tangled  streets, 
I  was  struck  with  the  universal  sound  of  wailing  which 
filled  the  city.  All  the  tailors,  shoemakers,  and  basket- 
makers,  at  work  in  the  open  air,  were  singing,  rarely  in 
measured  strains,  but  with  wild,  irregular,  lamentable  cries, 
exactly  in  the  manner  of  the  Arabs.  Sometimes  the  song 
was  antiphonal,  flung  back  and  forth  from  the  furthest 
visible  corners  of  a  street ;  and  then  it  became  a  contest  of 
lungs,  kept  up  for  an  hour  at  a  time.  While  breakfasting, 
t  had  heard,  as  I  supposed,  a  miserere  chanted  by  some 


184  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

procession  of  monks,  and  wondered  when  the  doleful  strains 
would  cease.  I  now  saw  that  they  came  from  the  mouths 
of  some  cheerful  coopers,  who  were  heading  barrels  a  little 
further  down  the  street.  The  Majorcans  still  have  their 
troubadours,  who  are  hired  by  languishing  lovers  to  im 
provise  strains  of  longing  or  reproach  under  the  windows 
of  the  fair,  and  perhaps  the  latter  may  listen  with  delight ; 
but  I  know  of  no  place  where  the  Enraged  Musician  would 
so  soon  become  insane.  The  isle  is  full  of  noises,  and  a 
Caliban  might  say  that  they  hurt  not ;  for  me  they  mur 
dered  sleep,  both  at  midnight  and  at  dawn. 

I  had  decided  to  devote  my  second  day  to  an  excursion 
to  the  mountain  paradise  of  Valldemosa,  and  sallied  forth 
early,  to  seek  the  means  of  conveyance.  Up  to  this  time  I 
had  been  worried  —  tortured,  I  may  say,  without  exagger 
ation  —  by  desperate  efforts  to  recover  the  Spanish  tongue, 
which  I  had  not  spoken  for  fourteen  years.  I  still  had  the 
sense  of  possessing  it,  but  in  some  old  drawer  of  memory, 
the  lock  of  which  had  rusted  and  would  not  obey  the  key. 
Like  Mrs.  Dombey  with  her  pain,  I  felt  as  if  there  were 
Spanish  words  somewhere  in  the  room,  but  I  could  not 
positively  say  that  I  had  them  —  a  sensation  which,  as 
everybody  knows,  is  far  worse  than  absolute  ignorance.  I 
had  taken  a  carriage  for  Valldemosa,  after  a  long  talk  with 
the  proprietor,  a  most  agreeable  fellow,  when  I  suddenly 
stopped,  and  exclaimed  to  myself,  "You  are  talking 
Spanish,  did  you  know  it?"  It  was  even  so  :  as  much  of 
the  language  as  I  ever  knew  was  suddenly  and  unaccount 
ably  restored  to  me.  On  my  return  to  the  "  Four  Nations," 
I  was  still  further  surprised  to  find  myself  repeating  songs, 
without  the  failure  of  a  line  or  word,  which  I  had  learned 
from  a  Mexican  as  a  school-boy,  and  had  not  thought  of 
for  twenty  years.  The  unused  drawer  had  somehow  been 
unlocked  or  broken  open  while  I  slept. 

Valldemosa  is  about  twelve  miles  north  of  Palma,  in  the 
heart  of  the  only  mountain-chain  of  the  island,  which  forms 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  185 

its  western,  or  rather  northwestern  coast.  The  average 
altitude  of  these  mountains  will  not  exceed  three  thousand 
feet ;  but  the  broken,  abrupt  character  of  their  outlines,  and 
the  naked  glare  of  their  immense  precipitous  walls,  give 
them  that  intrinsic  grandeur  which  does  not  depend  on 
measurement.  In  their  geological  formation  they  resemble 
the  Pyrenees ;  the  rocks  are  of  that  palombino,  or  dove- 
colored  limestone,  so  common  in  Sicily  and  the  Grecian 
islands  —  pale  bluish  gray,  taking  a  soft  orange  tint  on  the 
faces  most  exposed  to  the  weather.  Rising  directly  from 
the  sea  on  the  west,  they  cease  almost  as  suddenly  on  the 
land  side,  leaving  all  the  central  portion  of  the  island  a 
plain,  slightly  inclined  toward  the  southeast,  where  occa 
sional  peaks  or  irregular  groups  of  hills  interrupt  its  mo 
notony. 

In  due  time  my  team  made  its  appearance  —  an  omni 
bus  of  basket-work,  with  a  canvas  cover,  drawn  by  two 
horses.  It  had  space  enough  for  twelve  persons,  yet  was 
the  smallest  vehicle  I  could  discover.  There  appears  to  be 
nothing  between  it  and  the  two-wheeled  cart  of  the  peas 
ant,  which,  on  a  pinch,  carries  six  or  eight.  For  an  hour 
and  a  half  we  traversed  the  teeming  plain,  between  stacks 
of  wheat  worthy  to  be  laid  on  the  altar  at  Eleusis,  carob 
trees  with  their  dark,  varnished  foliage,  almond-orchards 
bending  under  the  weight  of  their  green  nuts,  and  the 
country  houses  with  their  garden  clumps  of  orange,  cactus, 
and  palm.  As  we  drew  near  the  base  of  the  mountains, 
olive-trees  of  great  size  and  luxuriance  covered  the  earth 
with  a  fine  sprinkle  of  shade.  Their  gnarled  and  knotted 
trunks,  a  thousand  years  old,  were  frequently  split  into 
three  or  four  distinct  and  separate  trees,  which  in  the  pro 
cess  assumed  forms  so  marvelously  human  in  their  distor 
tion,  that  I  could  scarcely  believe  them  to  be  accidental. 
Dore  never  drew  anything  so  weird  and  grotesque.  Here 
were  two  club-headed  individuals  fighting,  with  interlocked 
knees,  convulsed  shoulders,  and  fists  full  of  each  other's 


186  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

hair ;  yonder  a  bully  was  threatening  attack,  and  three 
cowards  appeared  to  be  running  away  from  him  with  such 
speed  that  they  were  tumbling  over  one  another's  heels. 
In  one  place  a  horrible  dragon  was  devouring  a  squirming, 
shapeless  animal  ;  in  another,  a  drunken  man,  with  whirl 
ing  arms  and  tangled  feet,  was  pitching  forward  upon  his 
face.  The  living  wood  in  Dante  was  tame  beside  these 

o 

astonishing  trees. 

We  now  entered  a  wild  ravine,  where,  nevertheless,  the 
mountain-sides,  sheer  and  savage  as  they  were,  had  suc 
cumbed  to  the  rule  of  man,  and  nourished  an  olive  or  a 
carob  tree  on  every  corner  of  earth  between  the  rocks. 
The  road  was  built  along  the  edge  of  the  deep,  dry  bed  of 
a  winter  stream,  so  narrow  that  a  single  arch  carried  it 
from  side  to  side,  as  the  windings  of  the  glen  compelled. 
After  climbinsr  thus  for  a  mile  in  the  shadows  of  threaten- 

o 

ing  masses  of  rock,  an  amphitheatre  of  gardens,  enframed 
by  the  spurs  of  two  grand,  arid  mountains,  opened  before 
us.  The  bed  of  the  valley  was  filled  with  vines  and  or 
chards,  beyond  which  rose  long  terraces,  dark  with  orange 
and  citron  trees,  obelisks  of  cypress  and  magnificent  groups 
of  palm,  with  the  long  white  front  and  shaded  balconies 
of  a  hacienda  between.  Far  up,  on  a  higher  plateau  be 
tween  the  peaks  I  saw  the  church-tower  of  Valldemosa. 
The  sides  of  the  mountains  were  terraced  with  almost  in 
credible  labor,  walls  massive  as  the  rock  itself  being  raised 
to  a  height  of  thirty  feet,  to  gain  a  shelf  of  soil  two  or 
three  yards  in  breadth.  Where  the  olive  and  the  carob 
ceased,  box  and  ilex  took  possession  of  the  inaccessible 
points,  carrying  up  the  long  waves  of  vegetation  until  their 
foam-sprinkles  of  silver-gray  faded  out  among  the  highest 
clefts.  The  natural  channels  of  the  rock  were  straightened 
and  made  to  converge  at  the  base,  so  that  not  a  wandering 
cloud  could  bathe  the  wild  growths  of  the  summit  without 
being  caught  and  hurried  into  some  tank  below.  The 
wilderness  was  forced,  by  pure  toil,  to  become  a  Paradise  ; 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  187 

nnd  each  stubborn  feature,  which  toil  could  not  subdue, 
now  takes  its  place  as  a  contrast  and  an  ornament  in  the 
picture.  Verily,  there  is  nothing  in  all  Italy  so  beautiful 
as  Valldemosa ! 

Lest  I  should  be  thought  extravagant  in  my  delight,  let 
me  give  you  some  words  of  George  Sand,  which  I  have 
since  read.  "  I  have  never  seen,"  she  says,  "  anything  so 
bright,  and  at  the  same  time  so  melancholy,  as  these  per 
spectives  where  the  ilex,  the  carob,  pine,  olive,  poplar,  and 
cypress  mingle  their  various  hues  in  the  hollows  of  the 
mountain — abysses  of  verdure,  where  the  torrent  precipi 
tates  its  course  under  mounds  of  sumptous  richness  and 

an  inimitable  grace While  you  hear  the  sound 

of  the  sea  on  the  northern  coast,  you  perceive  it  only  as  a 
faint  shining  line  beyond  the  sinking  mountains  and  the 
great  plain  which  is  unrolled  to  the  southward  —  a  sub 
lime  picture,  framed  in  the  foreground  by  dark  rocks  cov 
ered  with  pines  ;  in  the  middle  distance  by  mountains  of 
boldest  outline,  fringed  with  superb  trees ;  and  beyond 
these  by  rounded  hills  which  the  setting  sun  gilds  with 
burning  colors,  where  the  eye  distinguishes,  a  league  away, 
the  microscopic  profile  of  trees,  fine  as  the  antennae  of 
butterflies,  black  and  clear  as  pen-drawings  of  India  ink  on 
a  ground  of  sparkling  gold.  It  is  one  of  those  landscapes 
which  oppress  you  because  they  leave  nothing  to  be  desired, 
nothing  to  be  imagined.  Nature  has  here  created  that 
which  the  poet  and  the  painter  behold  in  their  dreams. 
An  immense  ensemble,  infinite  details,  inexhaustible  variety, 
blended  forms,  sharp  contours,  dim,  vanishing  depths  — 
all  are  present,  and  art  can  suggest  nothing  further. 
Majorca  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  countries  of  the  world 
for  the  painter,  and  one  of  the  least  known.  It  is  a  green 
Helvetia  under  the  sky  of  Calabria,  with  the  solemnity  and 
silence  of  the  Orient." 

The  village  of  Valldemosa  is  a  picturesque,  rambling 
place,  brown  with  age,  and  buried  in  the  foliage  of  fig  and 


138  BY-WAYS   OF   EUEOPE. 

orange  trees.  The  highest  part  of  the  narrow  plateau 
where  it  stands  is  crowned  by  the  church  and  monastery 
of  the  Trappists  (Cartusa),  now  deserted.  My  coachman 
drove  under  the  open  roof  of  a  venta,  and  began  to  unhar 
ness  his  horses.  The  family,  who  were  dining  at  a  table  so 
low  that  they  appeared  to  be  sitting  on  the  floor,  gave  me 
the  customary  invitation  to  join  them,  and  when  I  asked 
for  a  glass  of  wine  brought  me  one  which  held  nearly  a 
quart.  I  could  not  long  turn  my  back  on  the  bright,  won 
derful  landscape  without ;  so,  taking  books  and  colors,  I 
entered  the  lonely  cloisters  of  the  monastery.  Followed 
first  by  one  small  boy,  I  had  a  retinue  of  at  least  fifteen 
children  before  I  had  completed  the  tour  of  the  church, 
court-yard,  and  the  long  drawn,  shady  corridors  of  the 
silent  monks ;  and  when  I  took  my  seat  on  the  stones  at 
the  foot  of  the  tower,  with  the  very  scene  described  by 
George  Sand  before  my  eyes,  a  number  of  older  persons 
added  themselves  to  the  group.  A  woman  brought  me  a 
chair,  and  the  children  then  planted  themselves  in  a  dense 
row  before  me,  while  I  attempted  to  sketch  under  such 
difficulties  as  I  had  never  known  before.  Precisely  be 
cause  I  am  no  artist,  it  makes  me  nervous  to  be  watched 
while  drawing  ;  and  the  remarks  of  the  young  men  on  this 
occasion  were  not  calculated  to  give  me  courage. 

When  I  had  roughly  mapped  out  the  sky  with  its  few 
floating  clouds,  some  one  exclaimed,  "  He  has  finished  the 
mountains,  there  they  are  !  "  and  they  all  crowded  around 
me,  saying,  "  Yes,  there  are  the  mountains ! "  While  I 
was  really  engaged  upon  the  mountains,  there  was  a  violent 
discussion  as  to  what  they  might  be ;  and  I  don't  know  how 
long  it  would  have  lasted,  had  I  not  turned  to  some 
cypresses  nearer  the  foreground.  Then  a  young  man  cried 
out :  "  O,  that's  a  cypress  !  I  wonder  if  he  will  make  them 
all,  —  how  many  are  there  ?  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  — 
yes,  he  makes  five  ! "  There  was  an  immediate  rush,  shut 
ting  out  earth  and  heaven  from  my  sight,  and  they  all 


BALEARIC  DAYS.  189 

cried  in  chorus,  "One,  two,  three,  four,  five  —  yes,  he  has 
made  five!" 

"  Cavaliers  and  ladies,"  I  said,  with  solemn  politeness, 
"  have  the  goodness  not  to  stand  before  me." 

"  To  be  sure  !  Santa  Maria  !  How  do  you  think  he  can 
see  ?  "  yelled  an  old  woman,  and  the  children  were  hustled 
away.  But  I  thereby  won  the  ill-will  of  those  garlic- 
breathing  and  scratching  imps,  for  very  soon  a  shower  of 
water-drops  fell  upon  my  paper.  Next  a  stick,  thrown 
from  an  upper  window,  dropped  on  my  head,  and  more 
than  once  my  elbow  was  intentionally  jogged  from  behind. 
The  older  people  scolded  and  threatened,  but  young 
Majorca  was  evidently  against  me.  I  therefore  made 
haste  to  finish  my  impotent  mimicry  of  air  and  light,  and 
get  away  from  the  curious  crowd. 

Behind  the  village  there  is  a  gleam  of  the  sea,  near,  yet 
at  an  unknown  depth.  As  I  threaded  the  walled  lanes 
seeking  some  point  of  view,  a  number  of  lusty  young  fel 
lows,  mounted  on  unsaddled  mules,  passed  me  with  a  cour 
teous  greeting.  On  one  side  rose  a  grand  pile  of  rock, 
covered  with  ilex-trees  —  a  bit  of  scenery  so  admirable, 
that  I  fell  into  a  new  temptation.  I  climbed  a  little  knoll 
and  looked  around  me.  Far  and  near  no  children  were  to 
be  seen  ;  the  portico  of  an  unfinished  house  offered  both 
shade  and  seclusion.  I  concealed  myself  behind  a  pillar, 
and  went  to  work.  For  half  an  hour  I  was  happy ;  then  a 
round  black  head  popped  up  over  a  garden  wall,  a  small 
brown  form  crept  towards  me,  beckoned,  and  presently  a 
new  multitude  had  assembled.  The  noise  they  made  pro 
voked  a  sound  of  cursing  from  the  interior  of  a  stable  ad 
joining  the  house.  They  only  made  a  louder  tumult  in 
answer ;  the  voice  became  more  threatening,  and  at  the 
end  of  five  minutes  the  door  burst  open.  An  old  man, 
with  wrath  flashing  from  his  eyes,  came  forth.  The  chil 
dren  took  to  their  heels  ;  I  greeted  the  new-comer  politely, 
but  he  hardly  returned  the  salutation.  He  was  a  very 


190  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


fountain  of  curses,  and  now  hurled  stones  with  them  after 
the  fugitives.  When  they  had  all  disappeared  behind  the 
walls,  he  went  back  to  his  den,  grumbling  and  muttering. 
It  was  not  five  minutes,  however,  before  the  children  were 
back  again,  as  noisy  as  before  ;  so,  at  the  first  thunder  from 
the  stable,  I  shut  up  my  book,  and  returned  to  the  inn. 

While  the  horses  were  being  harnessed,  I  tried  to  talk 
with  an  old  native,  who  wore  the  island  costume,  and  was 
as  grim  and  grizzly  as  Ossawatomie  Brown.  A  party  of 
country  people  from  the  plains,  who  seemed  to  have  come 
up  to  Valldemosa  on  a  pleasure  trip,  clambered  into  a  two- 
wheeled  cart  drawn  by  one  mule,  and  drove  away.  My 
old  friend  gave  me  the  distances  of  various  places,  the 
state  of  the  roads,  and  the  quality  of  the  wine  ;  but  he 
seemed  to  have  no  conception  of  the  world  outside  of  the 
island.  Indeed,  to  a  native  of  the  village,  whose  fortune 
has  simply  placed  him  beyond  the  reach  of  want,  what  is 
the  rest  of  the  world  ?  Around  and  before  him  spreads 
one  of  its  loveliest  pictures ;  he  breathes  its  purest  air ; 
and  he  may  enjoy  its  best  luxuries,  if  he  heeds  or  knows 
how  to  use  them. 

Up  to  this  day  the  proper  spice  and  flavor  had  been 
wanting.  Palma  had  only  interested  me,  but  in  Vallde 
mosa  I  found  the  inspiration,  the  heat  and  play  of  vivid, 
keen  sensation,  which  one  (often  somewhat  unreasonably) 
expects  from  a  new  land.  As  my  carriage  descended, 
winding  around  the  sides  of  the  magnificent  mountain 
amphitheatre,  in  the  alternate  shadows  of  palm  and  ilex, 
pine  and  olive,  I  looked  back,  clinging  to  every  marvelous 
picture,  and  saying  to  myself,  over  again,  "  I  have  not 
come  hither  in  vain."  When  the  last  shattered  gate  of 
rock  closed  behind  me,  and  the  wood  of  insane  olive- 
trunks  was  passed,  with  what  other  eyes  I  looked  upon  the 
rich  orchard-plain  !  It  had  now  become  a  part  of  one 
superb  whole ;  as  the  background  of  my  mountain  view,  it 
had  caught  a  new  glory,  and  still  wore  the  bloom  of  the  ii 
visible  sea. 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  191 

In  the  evening  I  reached  the  "  Four  Nations,"  where  I 
was  needlessly  invited  to  dinner  by  certain  strangers,  and 
dined  alone,  on  meats  cooked  in  rancid  oil.  When  the 
cook  had  dished  the  last  course,  he  came  into  a  room  ad 
joining  the  dining  apartment,  sat  down  to  a  piano  in  his 
white  cap,  and  played  loud,  long,  and  badly.  The  landlord 
had  papered  this  room  with  illustrations  from  all  the  period 
icals  of  Europe :  dancing-girls  pointed  their  toes  under 
cardinals'  hats,  and  bulls  were  baited  before  the  shrines  of 
saints.  Mixed  with  the  wood-cuts  were  the  landlord's  own 
artistic  productions,  wonderful  to  behold.  All  the  house 
was  proud  of  this  room,  and  with  reason  ;  for  there  is  as 
suredly  no  other  room  like  it  in  the  world.  A  notice  in 
four  languages,  written  with  extraordinary  flourishes,  an 
nounced  in  the  English  division  that  travellers  will  find 
"  confortation  and  modest  prices."  The  former  advantage, 
I  discovered,  consisted  in  the  art  of  the  landlord,  the  music 
and  oil  of  the  cook,  and  the  attendance  of  a  servant  so 
distant  that  it  was  easier  to  serve  myself  than  seek  him  ; 
the  latter  may  have  been  "modest"  for  Palma,  but  in  any 
other  place  they  would  have  been  considered  brazenly  im 
pertinent.  I  should  therefore  advise  travellers  to  try  the 
"  Three  Pigeons,"  in  the  same  street,  rather  than  the 
"  Four  Nations." 

The  next  day,  under  the  guidance  of  my  old  friend,  M. 
Laurens,  I  wandered  for  several  hours  through  the  streets? 
peeping  into  court-yards,  looking  over  garden-walls,  or 
idling  under  the  trees  of  the  Alameda.  There  are  no 
pleasant  suburban  places  of  resort,  such  as  are  to  be  found 
in  all  other  Spanish  cities  ;  the  country  commences  on  the 
other  side  of  the  moat.  Three  small  cafes  exist,  but  can 
not  be  said  to  flourish,  for  I  never  saw  more  than  one 
table  occupied.  A  theatre  has  been  built,  but  is  only  open 
during  the  winter,  of  course.  Some  placards  on  the  walls, 
however,  announced  that  the  national  (that  is,  Majorcan) 
diversion  of  baiting  bulls  with  dogs  would  be  given  in  a 
few  days. 


192  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


The  noblesse  appear  to  be  even  haughtier  than  in  Spain, 
perhaps  on  account  of  their  greater  poverty ;  and  much 
more  of  the  feudal  spirit  lingers  among  them,  and  gives 
character  to  society,  than  on  the  main-land.  Each  family 
has  still  a  crowd  of  retainers,  who  perform  a  certain  amount 
of  service  on  the  estates,  and  are  thenceforth  entitled  to 
support.  This  custom  is  the  reverse  of  profitable ;  but  it 
keeps  up  an  air  of  lordship,  and  is  therefore  retained. 
Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  new  portion  of  the  Ala- 
meda  is  in  shadow,  and  swept  by  a  delicious  breeze  from 
the  sea,  it  begins  to  be  frequented  by  the  people  ;  but  I 
noticed  that  very  few  of  the  upper  class  made  their  ap 
pearance.  So  grave  and  sombre  are  these  latter,  that  one 
would  fancy  them  descended  from  the  conquered  Moors, 
rather  than  the  Spanish  conquerors. 

M.  Laurens  is  of  the  opinion  that  the  architecture  of 
Palma  cannot  be  ascribed  to  an  earlier  period  than  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  I  am  satisfied,  how 
ever,  either  that  many  fragments  of  Moorish  sculpture 
must  have  been  used  in  the  erection  of  the  older  building?, 
or  that  certain  peculiarities  of  Moorish  art  have  been 
closely  imitated.  For  instance,  that  Moorish  combination 
of  vast,  heavy  masses  of  masonry  with  the  lightest  and 
airiest  style  of  ornament,  which  the  Gothic  sometimes  at 
tempts,  but  never  with  the  same  success,  is  here  found  at 
every  step.  I  will  borrow  M.  Laurens'  words,  descriptive 
of  the  superior  class  of  edifices,  both  because  I  can  find  no 
better  of  my  own,  and  because  this  very  characteristic  has 
been  noticed  by  him.  "  Above  the  ground-floor,"  he  says, 
"  there  is  only  one  story  and  a  low  garret.  The  entrance 
is  a  semi-circular  portal  without  ornament ;  but  the  num 
ber  and  dimensions  of  the  stones,  disposed  in  long  radii, 
give  it  a  stately  aspect.  The  grand  halls  of  the  main  story 
are  lighted  by  windows  divided  by  excessively  slender 
columns,  which  are  entirely  Arabic  in  appearance.  This 
character  is  so  pronounced,  that  I  was  obliged  to  examine 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  193 

more  than  twenty  houses  constructed  in  the  same  manner, 
and  to  study  all  the  details  of  their  construction,  in  order 
to  assure  myself  that  the  windows  had  not  really  been 
taken  from  those  fairy  Moresque  palaces,  of  which  the  Al- 
hambra  is  the  only  remaining  specimen.  Except  in  Ma 
jorca,  I  have  nowhere  seen  columns  which,  with  a  height 
of  six  feet,  have  a  diameter  of  only  three  inches.  The 
fine  grain  of  the  marble  of  which  they  are  made,  as  well 
as  the  delicacy  of  the  capitals,  led  me  to  suppose  them  to 
be  of  Saracenic  origin." 

I  was  more  impressed  by  the  Lonja,  or  Exchange,  than 
any  other  building  in  Palma.  It  dates  from  the  first  half 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  when  the  kings  of  the  island  had 
built  up  a  flourishing  commerce,  and  expected  to  rival 
Genoa  and  Venice.  Its  walls,  once  crowded  with  merchants 
and  seamen,  are  now  only  opened  for  the  Carnival  balls 
and  other  festivals  sanctioned  by  religion.  It  is  a  square 
edifice,  with  light  Gothic  towers  at  the  corners,  displaying 
little  ornamental  sculpture,  but  nevertheless  a  taste  and 
symmetry,  in  all  its  details,  which  are  very  rare  in  Spanish 
architecture.  The  interior  is  a  single  vast  hall,  with  a 
groined  roof,  resting  on  six  pillars  of  exquisite  beauty. 
They  are  sixty  feet  high,  and  fluted  spirally  from  top  to 
bottom,  like  a  twisted  cord,  with  a  diameter  of  not  more 
than  two  feet  and  a  half.  It  is  astonishing  how  the  airy 
lightness  and  grace  of  these  pillars  relieve  the  immense 
mass  of  masonry,  spare  the  bare  walls  the  necessity  of 
ornament,  and  make  the  ponderous  roof  light  as  a  tent. 
There  is  here  the  trace  of  a  law  of  which  our  modern  ar 
chitects  seem  to  be  ignorant.  Large  masses  of  masonry 
are  always  oppressive  in  their  effect ;  they  suggest  pain  and 
labor,  and  the  Saracens,  even  more  than  the  Greeks,  seem 
to  have  discovered  the  necessity  of  introducing  a  sportive, 
fanciful  element,  which  shall  express  the  delight  of  the 
workman  in  his  work. 

In  the  afternoon,  I  sallied  forth  from  the  western  coast- 

13 


194  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

gate,  and  found  there,  sloping  to  the  shore,  a  village  inhab 
ited  apparently  by  sailors  and  fishermen.  The  houses 
were  of  one  story,  flat-roofed,  and  brilliantly  whitewashed. 
Against  the  blue  background  of  the  sea,  with  here  and 
there  the  huge  fronds  of  a  palm  rising  from  among  them, 
they  made  a  truly  African  picture.  On  the  brown  ridge 
above  the  village  were  fourteen  huge  windmills,  nearly  all 
in  motion.  I  found  a  road  leading  along  the  brink  of  the 
overhanging  cliffs,  toward  the  castle  of  Belver,  whose  brown 
mediaeval  turrets  rose  against  a  gathering  thunder-cloud. 
This  fortress,  built  as  a  palace  for  the  kings  of  Majorca 
immediately  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Moors,  is  now  a 
prison.  It  has  a  superb  situation,  on  the  summit  of  a  conical 
hill,  covered  with  umbrella-pines.  In  one  of  its  round, 
massive  towers,  Arago  was  imprisoned  for  two  months  in 
1808.  He  was  at  the  time  employed  in  measuring  an  arc 
of  the  meridian,  when  news  of  Napoleon's  violent  meas 
ures  in  Spain  reached  Majorca.  The  ignorant  populace 
immediately  suspected  the  astronomer  of  being  a  spy  and 
political  agent,  and  would  have  lynched  him  at  once. 
Warned  by  a  friend,  he  disguised  himself  as  a  sailor,  es 
caped  on  board  a  boat  in  the  harbor,  and  was  then  placed 
in  Belver  by  the  authorities,  in  order  to  save  his  life.  He 
afterwards  succeeded  in  reaching  Algiers,  where  he  was 
seized  by  order  of  the  Bey,  and  made  to  work  as  a  slave. 
Few  men  of  science  have  known  so  much  of  the  romance 
of  Kfe. 

I  had  a  long  walk  to  Belver,  but  I  was  rewarded  by  a 
grand  view  of  the  Bay  of  Palma,  the  city  and  all  the  south 
ern  extremity  of  the  island.  I  endeavored  to  get  into  the 
fields,  to  seek  other  points  of  view  ;  but  they  were  sur 
rounded  by  such  lofty  walls  that  I  fancied  the  owners  of 
the  soil  could  only  get  at  them  by  scaling-ladders.  The 
grain  and  trees  on  either  side  of  the  road  were  hoary  with 
dust,  and  the  soil,  of  the  hue  of  burnt  chalk,  seemed  never 
to  have  known  moisture.  But  while  I  loitered  on  the  cliffs 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  195 

the  cloud  in  the  west  had  risen  and  spread ;  a  cold  wind 
blew  over  the  hills,  and  the  high  gray  peaks  behind  Yall- 
demosa  disappeared,  one  by  one,  in  a  veil  of  rain.  A 
rough  tartana,  which  performed  the  service  of  an  omnibus, 
passed  me  returning  to  the  city,  and  the  driver,  having  no 
passengers,  invited  me  to  ride.  "  What  is  your  fare  ? " 
I  asked.  "  Whatever  people  choose  to  give,"  said  he,  — 
which  was  reasonable  enough  ;  and  I  thus  reached  the 
"  Four  Nations  "  in  time  to  avoid  a  deluge. 

The  Majorcans  are  fond  of  claiming  their  island  as  the 
birthplace  of  Hannibal.  There  are  some  remains  supposed 
to  be  Carthaginian  near  the  town  of  Alcudia,  but,  singularly 
enough,  not  a  fragment  to  tell  of  the  Roman  domination, 
although  their  Balearis  Major  must  have  been  then,  as  now, 
a  rich  and  important  possession.  The  Saracens,  rather 
than  the  Vandals,  have  been  the  spoilers  of  ancient  art. 
Their  religious  detestation  of  sculpture  was  at  the  bottom 
of  this  destruction.  The  Christians  could  consecrate  the 
old  temple  to  a  new  service,  and  give  the  names  of  saints 
to  the  statues  of  the  gods ;  but  to  the  Moslem  every  repre 
sentation  of  the  human  form  was  worse  than  blasphemy. 
For  this  reason,  the  symbols  of  the  most  ancient  faith,  mas 
sive  and  unintelligible,  have  outlived  the  monuments  of 
those  which  followed. 

In  a  forest  of  ancient  oaks  near  the  village  of  Arta, 
there  still  exist  a  number  of  Cyclopean  constructions,  the 
character  of  which  is  as  uncertain  as  the  date  of  their  erec 
tion.  They  are  cones  of  huge,  irregular  blocks,  the  jambs 
and  lintels  of  the  entrances  being  of  single  stones.  In  a 
few  the  opening  is  at  the  top,  with  rude  projections  resem 
bling  a  staircase  to  aid  in  the  descent.  Cinerary  urns  have 
been  found  in  some  of  them,  yet  they  do  not  appear  to 
have  been  originally  constructed  as  tombs.  The  Romans 
may  have  afterwards  turned  them  to  that  service.  In  the 
vicinity  there  are  the  remains  of  a  Druid  circle,  of  large 
upright  monoliths.  These  singular  structures  were  formerly 


196  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

much  more  numerous,  the  people  (who  call  them  "  the  al 
tars  of  the  Gentiles ")  having  destroyed  a  great  many  in 
building  the  village  and  the  neighboring  farm-houses. 
I  heard  a  oreat  deal  about  a  cavern  on  the  eastern  coast 

CT 

of  the  island,  beyond  Arta.  It  is  called  the  Hermit's  Cave, 
and  the  people  of  Palma  consider  it  the  principal  thing  to 
be  seen  in  all  Majorca.  Their  descriptions  of  the  place, 
however,  did  not  inspire  me  with  any  very  lively  desire  to 
undertake  a  two  days'  journey  for  the  purpose  of  crawling 
on  the  belly  through  a  long  hole,  and  then  descending  a 
shaky  rope-ladder  for  a  hundred  feet  or  more.  When  one 
has  performed  these  feats,  they  said,  he  finds  himself  in  an 
immense  hall,  supported  by  stalactitic  pillars,  the  marvels 
of  which  cannot  be  described.  Had  the  scenery  of  the 
eastern  part  of  the  island  been  more  attractive,  I  should 
have  gone  as  far  as  Arta ;  but  I  wished  to  meet  the  steamer 
Minorca  at  Alcudia,  and  there  were  but  two  days  remain 
ing. 


BALEARIC  DAYS. 
II. 


THE  same  spacious  omnibus  and  span  of  dun-colored 
ponies  which  had  taken  me  to  Valldemosa  came  to  carry 
me  across  the  island.  As  there  is  an  excellent  highway, 
and  the  distance  to  Alcudia  is  not  more  than  ten  leagues, 
I  could  easily  have  made  the  journey  in  a  day  ;  but  I  pur 
posely  divided  it,  in  order  to  secure  a  quiet,  unhurried  en 
joyment  of  the  .scenery  of  the  interior.  It  had  rained 
violently  all  night,  and  the  morning  of  my  departure  from 
Palma  was  cold  and  overcast.  The  coachman  informed 
me  that  four  months  had  elapsed  since  a  drop  of  rain  had 
fallen,  and  that  for  two  years  past  the  island  had  suffered 
from  drought.  I  therefore  wrapped  myself  in  my  cloak, 
contented  with  the  raw  air  and  threatening  sky,  since  the 
dry  acequias  would  now  flow  with  new  streams,  and  the 
empty  tanks  of  the  farmers  be  filled. 

It  was  like  a  rainy  day  in  the  tropics.  There  was  a  gray 
veil  all  over  the  sky,  deepening  into  blackness  where  the 
mountains  drew  down  the  showers.  The  soil,  yesterday 
as  dry  as  a  cinder,  already  looked  soggy  and  drenched, 
and  in  place  of  white,  impalpable  dust,  puddles  of  water 
covered  the  road.  For  the  first  two  leagues  we  drove 
over  a  dead  level,  seeing  nothing  but  fig,  olive,  and  almond 
trees,  with  an  occasional  palm  or  cactus,  fading  out  of  sight 
in  the  rain.  Majorca  is  in  reality  the  orchard  of  the  Mecl- 
iteranean.  All  its  accessible  surface  is  not  only  covered 
with  fruit-trees,  but  the  fruit  is  of  the  most  exquisite  qual 
ity.  The  apricots  are  not  dry  and  insipid,  but  full  of 
juice,  and  with  a  flavor  as  perfect  as  that  of  a  peach.  The 
oranges  and  figs  seemed  to  me  the  finest  I  had  ever  tasted ; 
even  the  date-palm  matures  its  fruit,  and  the  banana  grows 


200  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

in  the  same  garden  with  the  cherry  and  apple.  The  valley 
of  Seller,  the  only  port  on  the  western  side  of  the  moun 
tains,  was  described  to  me  as  one  unbroken  orchard  of 
superb  orange-trees,  a  league  or  two  in  length.  The  diffi 
culty  of  transportation  has  hitherto  robbed  the  people  of 
the  profits  of  their  production,  and  a  new  prosperity  has 
come  with  the  recent  improvement  of  their  roads.  Within 
a  league  of  Palma  an  entire  village  has  been  built  within 
the  last  five  years ;  and  most  of  the  older  towns  are  in 
rapid  process  of  enlargement. 

After  the  second  league,  the  country  became  undulating, 
the  trees  were  loftier  and  more  luxuriant,  and  woods  of 
picturesque  Italian  pine  covered  the  rocky  crests  of  the 
hills.  The  mountains  on  the  left  assumed  very  bold  and 
violent  forms,  rising  through  the  dim  atmosphere  like  so 
many  detached  towers  and  fortresses.  There  were  two 
dominant  peaks,  which  in  the  sheer  escarpment  of  their 
summits  resembled  the  crags  of  Konigstein  and  Lilienstein 
in  Saxony.  They  were  the  Torrella  and  the  Puig  (Peak) 
Major  —  grand,  naked,  almost  inaccessible  mountains, 
which  shed  the  rain  like  a  roof.  The  water-courses  which 
came  down  from  them  were  no  longer  dry  hollows,  but 
filled  to  the  brim  with  swift,  roaring,  turbid  floods.  These 
peaks  appeared  to  be  detached  nearly  to  the  base,  and 
between  their  steep  abutments  the  mouths  of  dim,  folding 
gorges  gave  promise  of  rare  and  original  scenery  within 
their  recesses. 

We  passed  Santa  Maria,  a  beautiful  little  village  of  two 
streets,  at  the  intersection  of  which  rises  a  fine  square 
belfry,  connected  with  the  buildings  of  a  defunct  monas 
tery.  The  picture  was  so  pleasant  that  I  brought  its  out 
lines  away  with  me.  In  spite  of  the  rain,  the  people  were 
at  work  in  the  fields,  turning  the  red  soil  about  the  roots 
of  the  olive-trees.  The  flowing  trousers  were  no  longer  to 
be  seen  ;  even  the  old  men  here  wore  the  gigot.  Others, 
with  the  words  Peon  caminero  on  their  caps,  were  breaking 


BALEARIC  DAYS.  201 

stones  by  the  roadside.  I  received  a  friendly  Bon  d? ! 
from  each  and  all.  Both  robbery  and  beggary  are  un 
known  in  Majorca ;  they  have  no  place  in  a  land  of  so 
much  material  order  and  cheerful  industry. 

Beyond  Santa  Maria  the  road  again  became  quite  level, 
and  the  courses  of  the  streams  pointed  to  the  northern 
shore.  The  fruit-trees  temporarily  gave  place  to  vineyards 
so  luxuriant  that  the  shoots,  unsupported  by  -stake  or  trel 
lis,  threw  their  tendrils  around  each  other,  and  hid  the  soil 
under  a  deluge  of  green.  The  wine  of  Benisalem  (Arabic 
beni-salaam,  "  the  children  of  peace ")  is  considered  the 
best  on  the  island.  It  is  a  fiery,  golden-brown  vintage, 
resembling  ripe  old  Malaga  in  flavor. 

We  were  within  a  league  of  Inca,  —  my  destination,  — 
when  the  rain,  which  had  already  blotted  out  the  moun 
tains,  began  to  drive  over  the  plain.  A  fine  spray  beat 
through  the  canvas  cover  of  the  omnibus,  condemning  me 
to  a  blind,  silent,  and  cheerless  half-hour  of  travel.  Then, 
between  garden-walls,  over  which  the  lemon-trees  hung 
great  boughs  breaking  with  fruit,  and  under  clumps  of 
rustling  and  dripping  palms,  I  entered  Inca.  My  equipage 
drew  up  before  the  door  of  a  new  fonda  in  a  narrow  old 
street.  There  were  billiards  and  coffee  on  the  ground- 
floor  ;  over  them  a  long  hall,  out  of  which  all  the  doors  and 
staircases  issued,  served  as  a  dining-room.  The  floors  were 
tiled,  the  walls  white-washed  and  decorated  with  the  litho 
graphed  histories  of  Mazeppa  and  Hernan  Cortez,  and  the 
heavy  pine  joists  of  the  ceiling  were  fresh  and  unpainted. 
There  was  an  inconsiderate  waste  of  space  in  the  disposi 
tion  of  the  rooms  and  passages  which  was  pleasant  to  be 
hold.  Contrary  to  the  usual  habit  of  travellers,  I  ventured 
into  the  kitchen,  and  found  it  —  as  it  ought  to  be  —  the 
most  cheerful  and  attractive  part  of  the  house.  The  land 
lord  brought  a  glass  of  the  wine  of  Benisalem  to  stay  my 
hunger ;  but  I  was  not  obliged  to  wait  overlong  for  the 
excellent  meal  of  eggs,  kid  with  pepper-sauce,  and  an  ex- 


202  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

quisite  dish  of  lobster  stewed  with  leeks  and   tomatoes, 
which  I  tasted  for  the  first  time. 

Towards  evening  the  rain  subsided,  and  I  went  forth 
to  view  the  place,  finding  a  picture  at  every  turn.  First, 
a  group  of  boys  burning  shavings  before  a  church-door ; 
then  a  gable  embowered  with  one  enormous  grape-vine, 
and  touched  with  sunshine,  while  beneath,  in  the  gloom  of 
a  large  arch,--the  family  ate  their  supper  ;  then  a  guitar- 
player  in  the  door  of  a  barber's  shop,  with  a  group  around 
him,  or  a  company  of  women,  filling  their  jars  at  a  foun 
tain.  The  town  is  built  upon  an  irregular  hill,  overlooking 
the  finest  orchards  of  Majorca.  The  clusters  of  palm- 
trees  which  spring  from  its  topmost  gardens  are  far  more 
beautiful  than  its  church-towers.  Nothing  can  be  more 
picturesque  than  the  narrow  valleys  on  either  side,  which 
slope  sufficiently  to  bring  out  in  sumptuous  contrast  the 
foliage  of  the  terraced  gardens.  The  people  looked  at  me 
curiously,  but  with  no  unfriendly  air,  as  I  followed  the 
winding  streets  into  the  country,  or  loitered  through  some 
country  lane  back  into  the  town.  Only  two  persons  spoke 
to  me  —  the  letter-carrier,  and  a  boy  who  was  trying  to 
knock  down  swallows  with  a  long  pole.  The  latter  made 
a  remark  which  I  did  not  understand,  but  it  was  evidently 
witty,  for  we  both  laughed.  The  workmen  at  their  avoca 
tions  sang  with  all  their  force,  and  very  dismally.  It  was 
difficult  to  say  which  were  the  more  insignificant  —  the 
melodies  or  the  words  of  their  songs.  One  specimen  of 
the  latter  will  suffice  to  give  an  idea  of  both :  — 

"  On  Sundays  the  young  girls  you  may  view, 
(Since  they  nothing  better  have  then  to  do), 
Watering  their  pots  of  carnations  sweet: 
Saying,  Drink,  my  dears,  for  you  cannot  eat!  " 

When  I  returned  to  the  fonda,  the  landlord  took  me  into 
a  part  of  his  house  which  was  built  like  a  tower  above  the 
level  of  the  city  roofs.  A  thunderous  mass  of  clouds  still 
hung  over  the  Puig  Major,  but  between  its  rifts  the  low 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  203 

sun  cast  long  lines  of  brassy  radiance  over  the  wide  land 
scape.  Westward  rose  the  torn  and  shattered  mountains  ; 
eastward  the  great  orchard-plain  stretched  away  into  pur 
ple  dimness,  only  broken  by  the  chapel-crowned  peak  of 
Santa  Maddalena,  near  at  hand,  and  the  signal  mountain 
of  Felaniche  in  the  distance.  Inca,  under  m'y  feet,  re 
sounded  with  wailing  noises,  which,  nevertheless,  expressed 
the  cheerfulness  and  content  of  the  inhabitants.  Through 
the  lanes  dividing  the  rich  vegetation,  the  laborers  were 
flocking  homeward  from  their  fields  ;  rude  tartanas  rat 
tled  along  the  broad  white  highway  ;  and  the  chimes  of 
vesper  presently  floated  over  the  scene  in  slow,  soothing 
vibrations.  "  You  see  how  beautiful  the  country  is  !  "  said 
the  landlord ;  "  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  finer  in  the 
world.  You  will  think  so  too,  when  you  have  been  to  the 
cemetery,  and  have  seen  the  new  monument.  It  is  won 
derful  !  A  basket  full  of  flowers,  and  if  they  were  not  all 
white,  you  would  take  them  to  be  real.  They  say  it  cost 
an  immense  amount  of  money." 

When  I  asked  forjuevos  (eggs)  for  my  supper,  the  land 
lady  shook  her  head,  until  somebody  suggested  joaos  !  with 
a  sound  like  the  whistling  of  wind  through  a  keyhole. 
They  were  then  speedily  forthcoming,  with  another  dish  of 
the  lobster  and  leeks,  and  a  bottle  of  excellent  wine.  I 
was  kept  awake  for  a  long  time,  that  night,  by  the  thrum 
ming  of  guitars  and  the  click  of  billiard  balls  in  the  cafe 
below  ;  and  when  sleep  finally  came,  it  was  suddenly  broken 
by  the  bursting  open  of  the  doors  and  windows  of  my  room. 
The  house  seemed  to  rock  under  the  stress  of  the  hurri 
cane  ;  the  lightning  played  through  the  torrents  of  rain  in 
rapid  flashes  of  transparent  silver,  accompanied  with  peals 
like  the  crashing  down  of  all  the  Puigs  in  the  mountain- 
chain.  But  at  sunrise,  when  I  went  upon  the  roof,  I  found 
the  island  sparkling  under  the  purest  of  morning  skies, 
every  leaf  washed,  every  outline  of  the  landscape  recut, 
and  all  its  colors  bright  as  if  newly  dyed.  A  bracing 


204  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

north  wind  blew  over  the  fields,  and  there  was  an  expres 
sion  of  joy  in  the  very  dance  of  the  boughs  and  the  waving 
of  the  vines. 

When  we  set  out  for  Alcudia,  the  coachman  first  drove 
to  a  fountain  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  watered  his  horses. 
There  was  a  throng  about  the  place,  —  old  women  with 
huge  earthen  amphorae,  young  girls  with  jars  which  they 
carried  on  the  hip,  donkeys  laden  with  casks,  and  children 
carrying  all  sorts  of  smaller  vessels.  The  water  is  brought 
from  the  mountains  to  this  fountain,  which  never  fails  in 
its  supply.  It  is  shaded  by  grand  old  plane  and  carob 
trees,  which  throw  a  network  of  light  and  gloom  over  the 
great  stone  tanks  and  the  picturesque  moving  crowds. 
Rising  out  of  the  glen  where  it  stands,  I  saw  the  mountains 
bare  in  the  morning  sun,  every  crevice  and  jag  of  their 
rocky  fronts  painted  with  a  pre-Raphaelite  pencil.  Past 
the  foot  of  the  solitary  mountain  of  Santa  Maddalena  ran 
our  road,  and  then  northward  over  a  second  plain,  even 
richer  than  that  of  Palma. 

The  olive  and  almond  trees  by  the  roadside  had  been 
washed  clean  of  dust,  but  they  hissed  in  the  breeze  as  dryly 
as  if  they  had  never  known  rain.  The  very  colors  of  the 
olive,  ilex,  and  myrtle  express  aridity.  Their  dry  leaves 
seem  to  repel  moisture,  even  as  the  mellow,  sappy  green  of 
the  North  seems  to  attract  it.  But  their  soft  grays  relieve 
the  keen,  strong  tints  of  soil,  sea,  and  sky,  and  we  could  ill 
spare  them  from  these  landcapes.  As  accessories  to  sun- 
browned  houses,  or  masses  of  ruined  architecture,  they  are 
invaluable.  They  belong  naturally  to  an  atmosphere  of  age 
and  repose,  while  fresh  turf  and  deciduous  trees  perpetually 
reproduce  the  youth  of  Nature.  Something  of  Attica  al 
ways  comes  to  me  with  the  olive,  something  of  Tusculum 
and  the  Sabine  Farm  with  the  ilex.  The  box,  I  know  not 
why,  suggests  the  Euphrates ;  and  the  myrtle  in  bloom,  the 
Garden  of  Eden. 

While   these  thoughts  were  passing  through  my  mind, 


BALEARIC  DAYS.  205 

the  road  slowly  fell  to  the  northward  ;  and  I  beheld  in  the 
distance  fields  of  a  green  so  dazzling  that  the  hackneyed 
term  "  emerald "  seems  much  too  dull  to  express  it.  It 
positively  burned  in  the  sun,  drawing  into  itself  the  lustre 
of  the  sky,  the  distant  sea,  and  the  leagues  of  glittering 
foliage.  Over  it  rose,  as  a  completer  foil,  the  gray  moun 
tains  of  the  peninsula  dividing  the  bays  of  Pollenza  and 
Alcudia.  I  was  at  a  loss  to  guess  what  plant  could  give 
such  an  indescribable  color ;  and  not  until  we  were  within 
a  stone's  throw  did  I  recognize  the  leaves  of  hemp.  An 
open,  marshy  plain,  entirely  bare  of  trees,  bordered  the  bay 
at  this  point.  The  splendid  orchards  ceased  ;  the  road 
crossed  some  low  hills  overgrown  with  ilex  and  pine,  a 
turbid,  roaring  stream,  with  poplars  on  its  banks ;  and  then 
a  glimmer  of  the  sea  on  either  hand  showed  that  we  had 
reached  the  peninsula.  There  were  Moorish  atalayas,  or 
watch-towers,  on  the  summits  nearest  the  sea,  and  a  large 
ruined  fortress  of  the  Middle  Ages  on  a  hill  inland. 
Alcudia,  with  its  yellow  walls,  its  cypress  and  palm  trees, 
now  appeared  at  the  foot  of  the  barren  heights,  oriental  in 
every  feature.  It  was  a  picture  from  the  Syrian  coast, 
needing  only  the  old  Majorcun  costume  for  the  laborers  in 
the  fields  to  be  perfect. 

Contrasted  with  those  parts  of  the  island  which  I  had 
seen,  the  country  appeared  singularly  lonely  and  deserted. 
Few  persons  met  us  on  the  road,  and  we  passed  none  on 
their  way  to  the  town.  Grass  grew  on  the  huge  walls  of 
defense,  the  stones  were  slipping  from  the  arch  of  the  gate 
way,  and  we  passed  into  a  silent  street  without  seeing  a  liv 
ing  thing.  My  coachman  stopped  before  a  mean-looking 
house,  with  no  sign  or  other  indication  of  its  character,  and 
informed  me  that  it  was  the  only  fonda  in  the  place.  A 
woman  who  came  to  the  door  confirmed  this  statement, 
modestly  adding,  "  We  are  not  very  fine,  but  we  will  give 
you  what  we  have."  A  narrow  room  on  the  ground-floor 
was  at  once  entrance-hall,  dining-room,  and  kitchen  ;  it 


206  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

contained  one  table,  three  chairs,  much  dirt,  and  very  nim 
ble  insects.  The  inmates  were  two  women,  and  a  small 
dog  with  a  bell  on  his  neck,  which,  whenever  he  scratched 
his  head  with  his  hind  foot,  rang  a  peal  of  alarm  through 
the  house.  Feeling  the  need  of  consolation,  I  summoned 
a  boy  from  the  street,  and  gave  him  some  money  to  bring 
me  cigars  from  the  estanco  ;  but  the  hostess,  taking  the 
coin,  cried  out  in  great  excitement :  "  Don't  send  that ! 
Holy  Mother,  don't  send  that !  You'll  lose  a  'chavo  on 
it !  "  The  coachman  burst  into  a  laugh,  repeating,  "  Lose 
a  'cltavo  !  "  —  which  is  about  the  eighth  part  of  a  cent ;  but 
the  woman  was  so  horrified  at  the  idea  that  I  gave  the  boy 
another  coin. 

"While  the  eggs  and  tough  scraps  of  beef  destined  for 
my  meal  were  simmering  in  pans  of  strong  oil,  the  hostess 
conducted  me  into  a  room  above,  which  contained  a  large 
and  very  ancient  bed,  five  blue  chests,  and  twenty-three 
pictures  of  saints.  "•  There  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  wave 
of  the  arm  and  a  look  of  triumph,  "  my  own  room,  but  you 
shall  have  it !  We  may  not  be  very  fine,  but  we  give  what 
we  have."  Whatever  my  thoughts  may  have  been,  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  avoid  expressing  my  entire  satisfaction. 

I  took  my  books,  went  outside  the  walls  to  a  tower  which 
I  had  noticed  on  the  ridge,  and  there  found  the  very  view 
of  the  town,  the  mountains,  and  the  bay,  which  .a  stranger 
would  desire  to  take  home  with  him.  In  the  full  noonday 
sunshine,  there  was  scarcely  shadow  enough  to  relieve  the 
clear  golden  tints  of  the  landscape  ;  but  the  place  was  en 
tirely  deserted,  which  was  a  better  fortune  than  I  enjoyed 
at  Valldemosa.  Three  peasants  wrere  reaping  wheat  in  a 
little  field  behind  the  tower  ;  now  and  then  a  donkey  and 
rider  jogged  slowly  along  the  distant  highway  ;  but  no  one 
seemed  to  notice  the  mysterious  stranger.  I  had  an  undis 
turbed  dream  of  two  hours,  for  the  forms  before  me,  half 
borrowed  from  my  memories  of  Oriental  life,  half  drawn 
from  those  landscapes  which  rise  in  our  minds  as  we  read 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  207 

the  stories  of  the  Middle  Ages,  satisfied  both  the  eye  and 
the  fancy.  Some  scenes  suggest  the  sound  of  a  flute  and 
Theocritan  idyls  ;  others,  horns  and  trumpets,  and  frag 
ments  of  epic  poetry  ;  but  here  the  only  accompaniment 
was  cymbals,  the  only  poems  suggested  were  "Fatima" 
and  "  Rudel  to  the  Lady  of  Tripoli." 

In  the  afternoon  I  walked  around  the  city  walls,  climbed 
upon  them,  visited  the  deserted  monastery  of  San  Diego, 
and  wandered  at  will  through  its  picturesque  ruins.  The 
place  is  surrounded  by  double  walls  of  great  strength, 
divided  by  a  moat  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock.  The  caper- 
plant,  the  ivy,  and  the  wild  fig-tree  have  taken  possession 
of  the  parapet  and  the  rifts  between  the  stones,  goats 
browse  in  the  bottom  of  the  moat,  and  children's  faces 
peep  forth  from  the  watch-towers  on  the  ramparts.  Out 
side  the  principal  gate,  I  came  upon  a  Gothic  cross,  rest 
ing  on  an  octagonal  base,  so  very  old  and  weather-beaten 
that  it  must  certainly  have  been  erected  during  the  first 
years  of  the  conquest.  The  walls  of  the  city  are  said  to  be 
Saracenic ;  but  the  people  are  poor  authority  on  this  or 
any  other  historical  point.  It  is  certain,  at  least,  that 
Alcudia  was  formerly  much  more  important  than  now.  Its 
bay  was  a  naval  station,  whence  expeditions  were  sent  out 
to  Africa  or  the  Levant ;  and  there  were  times  when  the 
kings  of  Spain  built  whole  fleets  from  the  forests  of  the 
island. 

Of  late,  a  little  fresh  life  has  begun  to  flow  into  the  silent 
old  town.  On  the  shore  of  the  bay,  a  few  miles  off,  an 
English  company  has  undertaken  agricultural  operations 
on  a  grand  scale.  Many  square  leagues  of  the  former  use 
less,  pestiferous  marshes  have  been  drained,  steam-engines 
erected  to  supply  water  for  irrigation,  and  an  attempt  made 
to  cultivate  cotton.  Concerning  the  success  of  the  under 
taking,  I  heard  the  most  contradictory  accounts.  The 
people  could  only  tell  me  of  the  immense  sums  expended, 
—  sums  which  appeared  almost  fabulous  to  them.  The 


208  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

agents,  of  course,  claimed  to  be  entirely  successful,  not 
withstanding  the  cotton-plants,  this  year,  will  scarcely  pro 
duce  enough  to  pay  for  the  seed.  Last  year  (1866),  I  was 
informed,  the  yield  was  very  fine :  the  staple  being  equal  to 
that  of  our  Sea-island  cotton.  The  intention  of  the  Eng 
lish  capitalists  was  probably  to  produce  a  similar  article, 
and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  have  shrewdly  chosen 
the  spot  for  the  experiment. 

When  the  afternoon  shadow  filled  the  street,  I  seated 
myself  at  the  door  of  the  fonda,  and  amused  myself  with 
the  movements  of  some  carpenters  in  an  opposite  shop. 
Two  lusty  apprentices  were  engaged  in  the  slow  labor  of 
sawing  beams  into  boards,  while  the  master  fitted  together 
the  parts  of  a  door.  The  former  used  an  upright  saw,  one 
standing  on  a  frame  overhead,  and  the  other  on  the  floor 
below ;  they  were  just  an  hour  and  a  half  in  sawing  five 
boards  from  a  beam  a  foot  wide  and  sixteen  feet  long. 
Whenever  a  neighbor  dropped  in  to  gossip  with  the  master, 
the  saw  stopped,  and  the  apprentices  took  an  active  part 
in  the  conversation.  There  was  also  a  boy  of  twelve  years 
old,  who  did  no  work  except  in  the  way  of  singing.  With 
his  head  thrown  back,  and  his  mouth  open  to  its  fullest  ex 
tent,  he  poured  forth  an  endless  succession  of  piercing  cries, 
recommencing,  at  the  end  of  each  lamentable  close  of  the 
measure,  with  a  fury  and  frenzy  which  nearly  drove  me 
wild.  The  little  dog  in  the  fonda,  from  time  to  time,  rang 
a  suggestive  peal  upon  his  bell,  and  echoes  from  other 
streets,  and  distant  bells  from  other  tormented  dogs,  filled 
up  the  pauses  of  the  performance. 

At  sunset  the  other  inmates  of  the  fonda  began  to  collect. 
First,  there  arrived  two  French  workmen,  of  mean  aspect ; 
then  a  Spanish  cavalier,  who  was  evidently  a  person  of  some 
importance,  for  he  invited  nobody  to  partake  of  his  supper. 
He  was  a  large,  olive-colored  man,  with  a  loud  voice  and 
opaque  gray  eyes,  in  which,  as  he  fixed  them  upon  my  face, 
I  read  the  question,  "  Are  you  not  going  to  salute  me  ?  "  I 


BALEARIC  DAYS.  209 

returned  the  look,  and  my  eyes  answered,  "  Who  art  thou, 
that  I  should  salute  thee  ?  "  After  these  remarks,  which 
both  understood,  we  spoke  no  more.  Several  natives  came, 
during  the  evening,  to  be  paid  for  some  service ;  but  they 
received  no  money.  The  two  Frenchmen  supped  with  the 
hostess  and  her  family,  but  the  important  Spaniard  and 
myself  had  our  meals  apart.  Finally  the  comedy  became 
tiresome,  and  I  went  to  bed. 

Not  to  sleep,  alas !  The  little  dog's  bell  was  silent 
through  the  night,  but  had  there  been  one  around  my  neck 
it  would  have  chimed  the  quarter-hours  without  a  single 
failure.  The  steamer  for  Minorca  was  expected  in  the  bay 
at  sunrise ;  so  I  arose  with  the  first  stir  in  the  house,  and 
found  two  gentlemen  who  had  come  from  Palma  during  the 
night,  and  three  man-of-war's  men,  waiting  in  the  street  for 
an  omnibus  which  was  to  carry  us  to  the  mole.  We  all 
waited  together  an  hour,  took  chocolate,  and  then,  after  an 
other  half-hour,  were  requested  to  climb  into  a  two-wheeled 
cart,  drawn  by  a  single  horse.  The  hostess  said  to  me,  '•  We 
are  not  very  fine,  and  I  don't  know  how  much  you  ought 
to  pay,  but  I  will  take  what  you  think  right,"  —  which  she 
did,  with  honest  thanks,  and  then  we  clattered  out  of  the  gate. 

A  descent  of  two  miles  between  fields  of  wheat  and  olives 
brought  us  to  the  mole,  where  we  found  only  a  few  lazy 
boatmen  lying  upon  heaps  of  iron  castings,  which  were 
waiting,  apparently,  for  the  English  engineers.  Shoals  of 
young  sardines  sprinkled  the  clear  green  deeps  of  the  sea 
with  a  million  points  of  light,  and  some  dead  flounders  lay 
like  lozenges  of  silver  among  the  dark  weeds  of  the  bottom. 
A  new  fish-crate,  floating  beside  the  pier,  was  a  mild  evi 
dence  of  enterprise.  The  passengers  sat  in  the  sun  until 
it  became  too  powerful,  then  in  the  shade,  and  so  another 
hour  and  a  half  rolled  away.  With  the  first  appearance  of 
the  steamer,  we  got  into  a  boat,  and  slowly  floated  out  be 
tween  two  crystal  atmospheres  (so  transparent  is  the  sea) 
into  the  roadstead. 
14 


210  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

The  extent  of  the  Bay  of  Alcudia  cannot  be  less  than 
fifteen  miles,  for  our  deliberate  steamer  was  nearly  two 
hours  in  getting  its  southern  headland  abeam.  Once  out 
side,  the  eastern  coast  of  Majorca  opened  finely  with  a  long, 
diminishing  group  of  mountains,  and  the  dim,  nearly  level 
outline  of  Minorca  appeared  in  front.  The  sea  was  like  a 
mirror,  broken  only  at  times  by  a  floating  turtle  or  the  leap 
of  a  dolphin.  I  found  the  Mahonese  on  board  to  be  a  very 
different  class  of  persons  from  the  Majorcans  in  whose  com 
pany  I  had  left  Barcelona.  Port  Mahon  was  for  twenty 
years  our  Mediterranean  naval  station ;  and  although  for 
twenty  years  it  has  ceased  to  be  so,  there  are  still  traces  of 
intelligence,  of  sympathy,  of  language,  and  of  blood,  which 
our  quasi-occupation  has  left  behind.  Two  of  the  passen 
gers  had  visited  America,  one  had  an  American  wife  in 
Minorca,  and  all  became  friendly  and  communicative  when 
my  nationality  was  announced.  They  had  faithfully  fol 
lowed  the  history  of  our  navy  through  the  war,  and  took 
especial  pains  to  claim  Admiral  Farragut  as  a  countryman. 
His  father,  they  said,  was  a  Minorcan,  and  the  farm  in  the 
interior  of  the  island  upon  which  he  once  lived  still  bears 
the  family  name.  I  was  brought  back  suddenly  from  the 
times  of  Tancred  (which  had  faded  out  of  sight  with  the 
walls  of  Alcudia)  to  our  stormy  politics  and  the  new  names 
they  have  given  to  history. 

All  the  afternoon  we  skirted  the  southern  coast  of  Mi 
norca.  The  town  of  Ciudadela,  at  its  western  extremity? 
showed  like  a  faint  white  mark  in  the  distance ;  then  some 
groups  of  hills  interrupted  the  level  table  of  the  island,  and, 
farther  eastward,  the  solitary  mountains  of  El  Toro.  The 
two  gentlemen  of  Palma,  neither  of  whom  had  ever  before 
made  a  journey,  went  below  and  slept  the  sleep  of  indiffer 
ence.  Many  of  the  Mahonese  followed  their  example  ;  and, 
the  quarter-deck  being  left  clear,  I  stretched  myself  out  over 
the  cabin  skylight,  and  quietly  watched  the  moving  shore,  as 
if  it  were  some  immense  diorama  unrolled  for  my  eyes  only. 


BALEAKIC  DAYS.  211 

The  white  cliffs  along  the  sea,  the  tawny  harvest-fields,  the 
gray  olives  embosoming  villages  and  country-houses,  and  the 
occasional  shafts  of  cypress  or  palm,  slowly  photographed 
themselves  upon  my  consciousness,  and  became  enduring 
pictures.  Had  I  climbed  and  hammered  the  cliffs  as  a 
geologist,  scoured  the  fields  as  a  botanist,  analyzed  the  soil, 
or  even  measured  its  undulations,  I  could  not  have  obtained 
a  completer  impression  of  Minorca. 

El  Toro  was  drifting  astern,  and  the  island  of  Ayre 
showed  its  light-house  in  front,  when  the  sound  of  a  guitar 
disturbed  my  comfortable  process  of  absorption,  and  brought 
the  sleepy  passengers  upon  deck.  The  performer  was  a 
blind  Spaniard,  a  coarse-featured,  clumsy  man,  whose  life 
and  soul  had  gone  into  his  instrument,  separating  light, 
beauty,  and  refinement  from  earthy  darkness.  When  he 
played,  the  guitar  really  seemed  to  be  the  man,  and  his 
body  a  mere  holder,  or  music-stand.  The  Mahonese,  I  was 
glad  to  see,  not  only  appreciated  the  performance,  but  were 
very  liberal  in  their  contributions. 

The  island  of  Ayre  lies  off  the  southeastern  extremity  of 
Minorca.  In  the  intervening  strait,  the  sea  was  so  wonder 
fully  transparent  that  the  alternations  of  bare  limestone  floor 
and  fields  of  sea-weed  far  below  our  keel,  changed  the  color 
of  the  water  from  a  turquoise  so  dazzling  that  I  can  only 
call  it  blue  fire  to  an  emerald  gloom  pierced  with  golden 
lightnings.  Even  that  southern  temperament  which  cares 
so  little  for  Nature,  was  aroused  by  the  sight  of  these  splen 
dors.  The  passengers  hung  over  the  railing  with  cries  of 
admiration,  and  the  blind  minstrel  was  left  to  soliloquize  on 
his  guitar.  Against  a  headland  in  front,  the  smooth  sea 
suddenly  rose  in  a  crest  of  foam,  behind  which  a  gleam  of 
darker  sapphire  denoted  the  mouth  of  a  harbor.  In  a  few 
minutes  more  we  were  abreast  of  the  entrance  to  Port  Ma- 
hon,  with  a  great  ascending  slope  of  new  fortifications  on  the 
north.  Hundreds  of  men  are  now  employed  on  defenses 
which  the  new  developments  in  naval  warfare  have  rendered 


212  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

useless  ;  and  the  officials  conceal,  with  the  most  jealous  fear, 
the  plan  of  a  system  of  forts  and  batteries  which  no  other 
nation  need  care  to  know. 

The  lower  ground,  on  the  southern  side  of  the  entrance 
to  the  inner  harbor,  is  entirely  covered  with  the  ruins  of  the 
immense  fortress  of  San  Felipe,  built  by  the  English  during 
their  occupation  of  Minorca  from  1708  to  1802.  The  fate 
of  Admiral  Byng,  executed  for  a  naval  victory  over  the 
French,  gives  a  tragic  interest  to  these  ruins,  which,  in 
their  extent,  resemble  those  of  a  city.  All  governments 
(our  own  included)  know  how  to  make  their  individual  ser 
vants  the  scapegoats  for  their  blunders  or  their  incapacity ; 
but  I  know  not,  in  all  history,  of  a  case  so  flagrant  as  that 
of  Byng.  The  destruction  of  Fort  San  Felipe  cost  nearly 
half  a  million  of  dollars,  and  yet  it  appears  to  be  only  partial. 

On  passing  the  channel  between  the  fort  and  Cape  Mola, 
we  found  ourselves  in  the  port,  but  only  at  its  entrance  ;  the 
city  was  not  yet  visible.  A  bright  white  town  crowned  the 
low  cliffs  of  the  southern  shore  —  the  former  Georgetown 
of  the  English,  the  present  Villa  Carlos  of  the  Spaniards. 
Opposite  to  it,  the  long  quarantine  island  divided  the  in 
tensely  blue  water ;  and  my  fellow-passengers  claimed  with 
pride  that  it  was  capable  of  accommodating  a  whole  fleet. 
Beyond  this  island  the  harbor  bends  southward,  shutting  out 
of  sight  the  sea  entrance  ;  it  becomes  a  still  lake,  inclosed 
by  bare,  bright  hills.  The  Isle  of  the  King,  with  a  splendid 
military  hospital ;  the  ship-yard,  with  a  vessel  of  a  thousand 
tons  on  the  stocks,  and  various  other  public  constructions, 
appeared  successively  on  our  right.  The  nearer  southern 
shore,  a  wall  of  dark  gray  rock,  broken  by  deep  gashes  in 
which  houses  were  hidden  and  steep  roads  climbed  to  the 
summit,  increased  in  height :  as  we  approached  the  end  of 
the  harbor,  quays  along  the  water,  and  a  fresh,  many-colored, 
glittering  town  on  the  rocks,  showed  that  we  had  reached 
Port  Mahon.  Nature  has  made  this  basin  as  picturesque 
as  it  is  secure.  The  wild  cliffs  of  the  coast  here  pierce 


„!  V,*i 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  213 

inland,  but  they  are  draped  with  splendid  gardens ;  fields 
of  wheat  climb  the  hills,  and  orchards  of  olive  clothe  their 
feet ;  over  the  table-land  of  the  island  rises  in  the  distance 
the  purple  peak  of  El  Toro ;  and  the  city  before  you,  raised 
on  a  pedestal  a  hundred  feet  in  height,  seems  to  be  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  the  Mediterranean.  "  Did  you  ever 
see  a  place  like  that  ?  "  asked  a  Mahonese  at  my  elbow. 

"  Captain ,  of  your  navy,  used  to  say  that  there  were 

only  three  good  harbors  in  the  Mediterranean,  —  the 
months  of  July  and  August,  and  Port  Mahon  !  "  Captain 
,  however,  as  my  friend  perhaps  did  not  know,  bor 
rowed  the  remark  from  Admiral  Andrea  Doria,  who  made 
it  centuries  ago. 

The  "  Fonda  del  Oriente  "  looked  down  upon  me  invit 
ingly  from  the  top  of  the  rock,  which  was  made  accessible 
by  a  road  carried  up  in  steep,  zigzag  ramps.  At  the  door 
of  the  hotel  I  was  received  by  a  stout  old  man  with  a  cos 
mopolitan  face,  who,  throwing  his  head  on  one  shoulder, 
inspected  me  for  a  few  moments  with  a  remarkably  know 
ing  air.  Then,  with  a  nod  of  satisfaction  at  his  own  acute- 
ness,  he  said,  "Walk  in,  sir;  how  do  you  find  yourself?" 
Ushering  me  into  a  chamber  furnished  with  an  old  mahog 
any  secretary,  heavy  arm-chairs,  and  antiquated  prints, — 
the  atmosphere  of  Portsmouth  or  Gravesend  hanging  over 
everything,  —  he  continued,  after  another  critical  survey, 
"  Mr.  Alexander,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  That  is  not  my  name,"  I  said. 

"Not  Alexander!  Then  it  must  be  Sykes;  they  are 
brothers-in-law,  you  know,"  persisted  the  stout  old  man. 

I  answered  him  with  a  scrutinizing  stare,  and  the  words, 
"  Your  name  is  Bunsby,  I  think  ?  " 

"  O  no  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  I  am  Antonio.  You  can't  be 
Mr.  Sykes,  either,  or  you'd  know  me." 

"  You  are  talking  of  Englishmen  ;  I  am  not  English." 

«  Not  English  ?  "  he  cried.  "  H'm,  well,  that's  queer  ; 
but,  to  be  sure,  you  must  be  American.  I  know  all  the 


BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


American  officers  that  ever  were  here,  and  they  know  me. 
Ask  Commodore and if  they  don't  know  An 
tonio  !  The  greatest  mistake  I  ever  made  was  that  I  didn't 
move  to  Spezia  with  the  squadron." 

"  Can  you  give  me  dinner  ? "  I  asked,  cutting  off  the 
coming  yarn. 

"  Stop  !  "  he  said  ;  "  don't  tell  me ;  I  can  guess  what  you 
want.  A  beefsteak  rare,  hey  ?  and  mixed  pickles,  hey  ?  and 
potatoes  with  their  jackets  on,  hey  ?  But  it's  too  late  to 
make  a  pudding,  and  there's  no  Stilton  cheese  !  Never 
mind!  let  me  alone;  nobody  in  Port  Mahon  can  come 
nearer  the  real  thing  than  I  can." 

In  vain  I  declared  my  willingness  to  take  the  Minorcan 
dishes.  Such  a  taste  had  probably  never  before  been  ex 
pressed  in  all  Antonio's  experience  of  English  and  Ameri 
cans  ;  and  my  meals  then  and  thenceforth  were  a  series  of 
struggles  to  reproduce  Portsmouth  or  Gravesend.  But  the 
hotel  was  large,  airy,  and  perfectly  clean  ;  Antonio  honestly 
endeavored  to  make  me  comfortable  ;  he  knew  a  great  many 
of  my  naval  friends,  and  I  had  no  complaint  to  make  with 
his  reckoning  at  the  close  of  my  stay.  lie  was,  moreover, 
a  man  of  progress ;  he  corned  beef,  and  cured  hams,  and 
introduced  the  making  of  butter  (not  very  successfully), 
and  taught  the  people  how  to  cook  potatoes.  He  even 
dispatched  a  cheese,  as  a  present,  to  Marshal  Serrano, 
before  I  left  Port  Mahon. 

Refreshed  by  a  long  sleep,  which  was  not  disturbed  by 
any  little  dog  with  a  bell  on  his  neck,  or  that  which  the 
sound  of  the  latter  suggested,  I  sallied  forth  in  the  morning 
without  any  objective  point.  The  city  must  first  be  seen, 
because  it  lay  between  me  and  the  country.  I  was  delighted 
to  find  wide,  well-paved  streets  as  compared  with  those  of 
Palma,  clean,  cheerful  houses,  and  an  irregularity  sufficient 
for  picturesque  effect,  without  being  bewildering  to  a  stran 
ger.  Very  few  of  the  buildings  appeared  to  be  older  than 
the  last  century ;  there  was  nothing  characteristic  in  their 


ALEARIC   DAYS.  215 

architecture  ;  but  the  city,  from  end  to  end,  was  gay,  sunny, 
full  of  color,  riante,  and  without  a  trace  of  the  usual  Spanish 
indolence  and  uncleanliness.  It  has  somewhat  fallen  from 
its  former  estate.  Grass  grows  in  many  of  the  streets,  and 
there  is  less  noise  and  movement  than  one  would  look  for 
with  the  actual  population  —  some  fifteen  thousand.  Three 
or  four  small  craft  in  the  harbor  did  not  indicate  an  active 
commerce,  and  I  presume  the  place  is  kept  alive  mainly 
by  the  visits  of  foreign  men-of-war.  A  great  many  of  the 
common  people  speak  a  few  words  of  English,  and  you 
may  even  read  "  Adams,  Sastre,"  over  the  door  of  a  native 
tailor ! 

The  climate,  although  considered  harsh  by  the  Spaniards, 
seemed  to  me  perfect.  The  sun  of  June  shone  in  a  cloud 
less  sky,  flooding  the  sharp,  clear  colors  of  the  town  with  a 
deluge  of  light ;  yet  a  bracing  wind  blew  from  the  north, 
and  the  people  in  the  fields  and  gardens  worked  as  steadily 
as  Connecticut  farmers.  I  saw  no  loafers  upon  the  island ; 
and  I  doubt  whether  there  are  enough  of  them  to  form  a 
class  among  the  native  population.  While  there  was  evi 
dently  a  great  deal  of  poverty,  I  encountered  no  beggars. 
I  felt,  as  in  Majorca,  that  I  was  among  a  simple-minded, 
ignorant,  but  thoroughly  honest  and  industrious  people. 

The  street  I  had  chosen  gradually  rose  as  I  proceeded 
inland ;  walled  gardens  succeeded  to  the  houses,  and  then 
fields  of  wheat  or  vines,  separated  by  huge  agglomerations 
of  stones.  I  looked  over  an  undulating  table-land,  cov 
ered  with  such  lines  and  mounds  of  rocky  debris,  that  they 
seemed  to  be  the  ruins  of  a  city.  Every  patch  of  grain  or 
fruit  was  inclosed  by  a  cannon-proof  fortification,  and  the 
higher  ridges  terminated  in  bald  parapets,  whereon  the 
dark  mounds  of  box  and  ilex  held  fast  and  flourished  with 
out  any  appearance  of  soil.  At  the  foot  of  these  wild 
growths  the  fig-tree  grew  with  wonderful  luxuriance,  and 
very  often  the  foliage  of  the  untamable  rock  was  mingled 
with  that  of  the  gardens.  Here  every  foot  of  ground  had 


216  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

been  won  by  the  rudest,  the  most  patient  toil.  Even  the 
fields  conquered  centuries  ago  are  not  yet  completely  man 
ageable  ;  hundreds  of  stony  fangs  still  protrude  from  the 
surface,  and  the  laborer  is  obliged  to  follow  the  plough 
with  hoe  and  spade.  Thus,  in  spite  of  the  almost  incred 
ible  triumphs  of  agriculture  with  which  the  island  is  covered, 
its  general  aspect  is  that  of  a  barren,  torn,  hopeless  wilder 
ness.  Without  broad  or  grand  features  of  landscape,  it  is 
crowded  with  startling  contrasts  and  picturesque  details. 

I  wandered  southward  between  the  high,  loose  walls, 
towards  a  mound  which  promised  me  a  wider  inland  view ; 
but  on  approaching  it,  the  road  entered  an  impenetrable 
shade,  and  passed  beyond.  There  was  no  gate  or  entrance 
of  any  kind  into  the  fields,  so  I  took  advantage  of  a  jagged 
corner  of  the  wall,  and  climbed  to  the  top.  On  the  other 
side  there  was  a  wheat-field,  in  which  three  men  were  reap 
ing.  I  now  saw  that  what  I  had  taken  for  a  mound  was  a 
circular  tower,  the  top  of  which  had  been  torn  down,  form 
ing  a  slope  around  its  base,  which  was  covered  with  rank 
thickets  of  mastic  and  myrtle.  I  asked  the  men,  who  had 
stopped  work,  and  were  curiously  regarding  me,  whether  I 
might  cross  their  field  and  visit  the  ruin.  "  Certainly, 
Senor,"  said  the  master ;  *'  come  down  and  walk  about 
where  you  please."  He  then  called,  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  Miguel !  "  and  presently  a  small  boy  came  to  light  from 
behind  a  pile  of  rocks.  "  Miguel,"  said  he,  **  go  with  the 
Senor  to  the  atalaya,  and  show  him  the  steps." 

I  clambered  down  into  the  little  field,  which,  sunken 
between  enormous  walls  of  stone,  somewhat  resembled  a 
volcanic  crater.  Miguel  piloted  me  silently  across  the 
stubble,  between  solid  mounds  of  ilex,  which  seemed  no 
less  ancient  and  indestructible  than  the  rocks  upon  which 
they  grew,  and  by  a  gap  in  an  outer  wall  into  the  bed  of  a 
dry  moat  around  the  tower.  The  latter,  though  only  ten 
feet  wide,  stood  thick  with  ripe  wheat ;  but  it  was  bridged 
in  one  place  by  a  line  of  stones,  and  we  thus  crossed  with- 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  217 

out  trampling  down  the  precious  stalks.  There  were  no 
steps  to  the  tower,  but  a  zigzag  path  had  been  trampled 
among  the  ruins,  at  the  foot  of  which  I  dismissed  Miguel, 
and  then  mounted  to  the  summit.  I  first  looked  abroad 
upon  the  bright,  busy,  wild,  savage,  wonderfully  cultivated 
fields  and  gardens,  the  white  towers  and  tiled  roofs  of  the 
city  behind  me,  and  a  single  blue  fragment  of  the  sea  (like 
a  piece  chipped  out  of  the  edge  of  a  bowl)  in  the  east.  The 
characteristics  of  Minorcan  scenery,  which  I  have  already 
described,  gave  the  view  a  character  so  novel  and  so  re 
markable,  that  I  studied  them  for  a  long  time  before  ex 
amining  more  closely  the  ruin  upon  which  I  stood. 

The  farmer  had  called  it  an  atalaya,  and  the  tower  was 
clearly  of  Moorish  construction.  Its  height  must  have 
been  originally  much  greater,  or  it  could  not  have  answered 
its  purpose  of  watching  the  sea.  The  hollow  interior  is  en 
tirely  filled  with  the  fragments,  so  that  nothing  of  the  struc 
ture  remains  except  its  circular  form.  Outside  of  the  dry 
moat  there  is  a  massive  pentangular  wall,  with  a  lozenge- 
shaped  pile  of  solid  masonry  at  each  corner ;  the  whole 
evidently  designed  for  defense,  and  of  later  date  than  the 
tower  itself.  Such  quantities  of  stones  had  been  heaped 
upon  the  old  foundations  by  the  farmers,  in  clearing  spaces 
for  their  crops,  that  very  little  of  the  masonry  was  to  be 
seen.  To  be  of  service,  however,  the  walls  must  have  been 
at  least  twenty  feet  higher  than  at  present.  Many  of  the 
stones  have  no  doubt  been  carried  away  for  buildings,  and 
there  are  still  huge  piles  of  them  in  the  adjacent  fields. 
Towering  out  of  one  of  these  piles  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
another  relic  of  a  still  remoter  past  —  an  object  so  unex 
pected  that  I  at  first  took  it  for  an  accidental  disposition 
of  the  stones.  I  descended  to  the  moat,  clambered  over 
the  outer  wall,  and  made  my  way  to  the  spot. 

It  was  a  Celtic  tor,  or  altar  —  a  large  upright  block  of 
gray  limestone,  supporting  a  horizontal  block  about  ten 
feet  in  length.  The  pillar  was  so  buried  in  fragments 


218  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

which  had  been  piled  about  it,  that  I  could  not  ascertain 
its  height ;  but  the  character  of  the  monument  was  too  dis 
tinctly  marked  to  admit  of  a  question.  After  returning  to 
Port  Mahon,  I  found  that  its  existence  was  well  known. 
In  fact,  the  first  question  asked  me  was,  "  Have  you  seen 
the  Phoenician  altar?"  "When  and  by  whom  these  re 
markable  monuments  —  which  are  found  in  all  the  Medi 
terranean  islands  between  Greece  and  Gibraltar  —  were 
erected,  is  a  point  which  I  will  leave  antiquarians  to  dis 
cuss.  It  pleased  me,  as  I  sat  under  a  fig-tree  which  shot 
up  through  the  stones,  to  fancy  that  the  remains  of  three 
memorable  phases  in  the  history  of  man  were  before  me, 
—  of  the  Druids  in  the  crumbling  altar,  of  the  Saracens  in 
the  watch-to \ver,  and  of  the  house  of  Aragon  or  Castile  in 
the  fortress  enclosing  it. 

According  to  Strabo,  the  Balearic  Islands  were  colonized 
by  the  Rhodians ;  but  Strabo  probably  knew  less  about  the 
matter  than  any  respectable  antiquarian  of  our  own  day. 
The  people  of  Minorca  firmly  believe  that  Magon,  the 
brother  of  Hannibal,  founded  Port  Mahon,  and  they  attrib 
ute  the  Druidic  stones  and  the  Cyclopean  constructions 
(which  are  here  found  side  by  side)  to  the  Phrenicians. 
The  English  occupation,  which  left  at  least  a  good  map  be 
hind  it,  led  to  no  historic  investigations  ;  and  I  cannot  learn 
that  any  detailed  account  of  the  antiquities  of  the  island 
has  ever  been  published.  Those  remains  which  we  call 
Druidic  are  very  numerous  ;  some  of  the  upright  monoliths 
are  more  than  twenty  feet  in  height,  supporting  horizontal 
stones  of  nearly  equal  dimensions.  Nothing  but  the  lack 
of  archaeological  knowledge  prevented  me  from  making  a 
journey  through  the  interior  for  the  purpose  of  examining 
the  other  monuments. 

I  made  use  of  my  brief  visit,  however,  to  test  the  truth  of 
another  story,  which  is  among  the  permanent  traditions  of 
the  American  navy.  Every  one  has  read  the  account  of  a 
captain's  son  leaping  from  the  main-truck  of  a  frigate  ;  and 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  219 

in  the  days  when  Morris  was  popular,  his  verses  commen 
cing  — 

"  Old  Ironsides  at  anchor  lay 
In  the  harbor  of  Mahon," 

went  the  rounds  of  all  the  country  newspapers.  There 
was  a  melodramatic  air  about  the  incident  which  made  me 
suspicious.  I  suppose  the  lines  recalled  themselves  to  my 
mind  from  the  fact  that  Port  Mahon  is  nowhere  else  noted 
in  song.  The  Consul,  who  kindly  seconded  my  curiosity 
in  a  matter  of  so  little  importance,  went  to  an  old 
Mahonese,  who  has  had  the  greatest  experience  of  our  ves 
sels  and  officers,  and  questioned  him,  taking  care  not  to 
suggest  the  story  in  advance.  But  the  old  man  instantly 
said :  **  0  yes  !  I  remember  all  about  it.  Fifty  years  ago, 
or  more,  when  the  Constitution  frigate  was  here,  a  boy 
climbed  to  the  very  top  of  the  mainmast,  and  was  obliged  to 
jump  into  the  harbor,  as  there  was  no  other  way  of  getting 
down.  Not  many  persons  saw  the  act,  but  it  was  much 
talked  about,  and  nobody  doubted  that  the  boy  had  done 
it."  Whether  the  captain  forced  his  son  to  take  the  ter 
rible  leap  by  threatening  to  shoot  him  with  a  rifle,  the  old 
man  could  not  tell. 

The  next  morning  the  Consul  accompanied  me  on  an 
other  excursion  into  the  country.  We  passed  through  the 
town,  and  descended  to  an  alameda  which  skirts  the  har 
bor  to  its  western  end,  where  the  highway  to  Ciudadela 
strikes  off  towards  the  centre  of  the  island.  The  harbor 
once  penetrated  a  mile  deeper  into  the  country  than  at 
present,  so  the  people  say ;  but  it  must  have  been  a  shal 
low,  marshy  basin,  as  the  hills  around  could  not  possibly 
spare  enough  soil  to  fill  up  and  make  fruitful  the  valley 
which  one  now  enters  after  leaving  the  harbor-wall.  This 
valley  is  the  largest  tract  of  unbroken  garden  laud  which 
I  saw  in  Minorca.  Its  productiveness  is  apparently  un 
limited.  Maize,  cabbages,  sweet  potatoes,  hemp,  vines, 
vegetables  of  all  kinds,  covered  the  surface  ;  date-palms 


0  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

and  orange-trees,  so  overwhelmed  with  fruit  that  scarcely 
a  green- leaf  showed  through  the  dazzling  gold,  turned  it 
into  a  garden  of  the  tropics  ;  while  precipitous  walls  of 
limestone,  resting  on  rough  natural  vaults  and  arches,  shut 
out  the  rocky  upper  plateau  from  view.  The  laborers  were 
planting  new  crops  in  the  place  of  the  old ;  so  valuable  is 
this  rich  basin  that  no  part  of  its  surface  is  allowed  to  lie 
fallow  for  a  day. 

On  the  left,  the  inclosing  walls  were  broken  by  the 
mouth  of  a  glen,  the  sides  of  which  —  regular  terraces  of 
rock,  resting  on  arched  foundations  —  seemed  at  first  sight 
to  be  the  work  of  art.  Here,  in  the  shade  of  a  group  of 
poplars  and  sycamores,  stood  the  chapel  of  San  Juan, 
white,  cool,  and  solitary.  A  fountain,  issuing  from  the  base 
of  the  rocks  near  it,  formed  a  little  pool  in  which  some 
women  were  washing  clothes.  The  picture  was  Oriental 
in  every  feature,  —  so  much  so  that  I  was  surprised  not  to 
hear  "  Saba'  el-kheyr !  "  when  the  women  said  to  us,  "  Bon 
di'  tenga  !  " 

Entering  the  glen  behind  the  chapel,  a  few  paces 
brought  us  into  a  different  world.  Except  upon  some 
painfully  constructed  shelf  of  soil,  built  up  or  rescued  in 
some  way  from  the  rocks,  there  was  no  cultivation.  Our 
path  was  a  natural  pavement,  torn  by  the  occasional  rains ; 
bare  cliffs  of  gray  limestone,  vaulted  at  the  base,  overhung 
us  on  either  side,  and  the  mounds  of  box  on  the  summit 
sparkled  against  the  sky.  Every  feature  of  the  scenery 
bore  the  marks  of  convulsion.  Enormous  blocks  had  been 
hurled  from  above  ;  the  walls  were  split  with  deep,  irregu 
lar  crevices;  and  even  the  stubborn  evergreen  growths 
took  fantastic  shapes  of  horns,  fluttering  wings,  tufts  of 
hair,  or  torn  garments.  Now  and  then  a  dry-leaved  ilex 
rustled  and  rattled  in  the  breeze  ;  and  the  glen,  notwith 
standing  it  brimmed  over  with  intensest  sunshine,  would 
have  seemed  very  drear  and  desolate  but  for  the  incessant 
songs  of  the  nightingales.  While  I  crept  under  a  rock  to 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  221 

sketch  a  singularly  picturesque  combination  of  those  crag- 
forms, —  every  one  of  which  was  a  study,  —  the  joyous 
birds  made  the  place  ring  with  their  paeans.  The  day- 
song  of  the  nightingale  is  as  cheerful  as  that  of  the  lark ; 
its  passion  and  sorrow  is  kept  for  the  night. 

If  I  had  been  an  artist,  I  should  have  spent  a  fortnight 
in  the  glen  of  San  Juan  ;  but  as  it  was,  having  only  an 
other  day  in  Minorca,  I  could  not  linger  there  beyond  an 
hour.  At  the  point  where  I  sat  it  divides  into  two 
branches,  which  gradually  rise,  as  they  wind,  to  the  level 
of  the  table-land  ;  and  the  great  stone-heaps  commence 
immediately  behind  the  topmost  fringe  of  box.  The 
island,  in  fact,  is  a  single  rock,  upon  the  level  portions  of 
which  a  little  soil  has  lodged.  Wherever  one  may  travel 
in  the  interior,  it  presents  the  same  appearance.  The  dis 
tance  from  Port  Mahon  to  the  old  town  of  Cindadela,  at 
the  western  extremity  of  Minorca,  is  about  twenty-five 
miles  ;  and  the  Consul  informed  me  that  I  should  find 
the  same  landscapes  all  the  way.  There  is  nothing  re 
markable  in  Ciudaclela  except  a  cathedral  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  and  some  Saracenic  walls.  On  the  way  are  the 
three  other  principal  towns  of  the  island  —  Alayor,  Mer- 
cadal,  and  Ferrerias, —  all  of  which  are  rudely  built,  and 
have  an  equal  air  of  poverty.  It  was  for  a  moment  a  ques 
tion  with  me  whether  I  should  employ  my  little  remaining 
time  in  a  rapid  journey  to  Ciudadela  and  back,  or  in  stroll 
ing  leisurely  through  the  country  around  Port  Mahon,  and 
setting  down  my  observations  as  typical  of  all  Minorca. 
The  reports  of  the  Consul  justified  me  in  adopting  the  lat 
ter  and  easier  course. 

In  the  afternoon  we  walked  to  the  village  of  San  Luis, 
about  four  miles  distant,  and  recently  made  accessible  by 
a  superb  highway.  The  great  drought  which  has  prevailed 
in  all  the  Balearic  Islands  during  the  past  two  years  has 
seriously  injured  the  crops,  and  there  is  much  suffering  in 
Minorca,  which  is  so  much  less  favored  by  nature  than  its 


222  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

larger  sister  island.  I  heard  of  families  of  five  persons 
living  for  months  on  less  than  twenty-five  cents  a  day. 
Agriculture  is  profitable  in  good  seasons,  on  account  of  the 
excellent  quality  of  the  wheat,  oil,  and  oranges ;  but  the 
deposit  of  soil,  as  I  have  already  explained,  is  very  shallow, 
there  is  no  sheltering  range  of  mountains  as  in  Majorca, 
no  supply  of  water  for  irrigation,  and  the  average  produc 
tion  is  therefore  much  less  certain.  The  price  of  land  is 
high,  for  the  reason  that  the  proprietors  are  satisfied  if  it 
yields  them  annually  two  per  cent,  of  its  value.  Shoe- 
making  is  one  of  the  principal  branches  of  industry  in 
Port  Mahon ;  but  of  late  the  foreign  market  has  been  dis 
turbed,  and  the  profits  are  so  slight — whether  through 
slow  and  imperfect  labor  or  the  sharpness  of  contractors  I 
did  not  ascertain  —  that  any  check  in  the  trade  brings  im 
mediate  suffering.  The  people,  nevertheless,  are  very 
patient ;  they  invariably  prefer  work  to  mendicancy,  and 
are  cheerful  and  contented  so  long  as  they  succeed  in 
clothing  and  feeding  themselves. 

The  Minorcans  seemed  to  me  even  more  independent 
and  original  in  character  than  the  Majorcans.  There  is 
still  less  of  the  Spaniard,  but  also  less  of  the  Moor,  about 
them.  I  should  guess  their  blood  to  be  mostly  Vandal, 
but  I  stand  ready  to  be  corrected  by  any  ethnologist  who 
knows  better.  They  have  a  rugged,  sturdy  air,  little  grace 
and  elegance,  either  of  body  or  of  manner,  and  a  simpli 
city  which  does  not  exclude  shrewdness  or  cunning.  It  is 
considered  almost  an  insult  if  the  stranger  speaks  of  them 
as  Spaniards.  The  Governor  of  the  island  said  to  Mar 
shal  Serrano,  the  other  day,  when  the  latter  was  in  Port 
Mahon  in  temporary  exile  :  "  The  Minorcans  are  a  curious 
people.  You  probably  find  that  they  do  not  take  off  their 
hats  to  you  in  the  street,  as  you  are  accustomed  to  be 
saluted  in  Madrid  ?  "  "  Yes,"  answered  the  Marshal,  *'  I 
have  already  learned  that  they  care  nothing  whatever  for 
either  you  or  me."  The  older  people  look  back  on  the 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  223 

English  occupation  with  regret ;  the  younger  generation 
would  be  exceedingly  well  satisfied  if  Spain  would  sell  the 
island  to  the  United  States  for  a  naval  station.  But  all 
unite  in  calling  themselves  Minorcans,  or  Mahonese,  and 
in  drawing  a  very  broad  line  between  themselves  and  the 
Spaniards  of  the  Peninsula. 

The  Consul  confirmed  my  first  impressions  of  the  hon 
esty  of  the  people.  "  You  may  walk  on  any  road  in  the 
island,"  said  he,  "  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  with 
the  most  perfect  security."  He  also  gave  them  the  highest 
praise  for  cleanliness  and  order  in  their  domestic  life, 
which  are  certainly  not  Spanish  qualities.  The  young 
men  and  women  who  are  betrothed  save  every  penny  of 
their  earnings,  and  invest  them  in  the  articles  of  furniture 
necessary  to  the  establishment  of  a  household.  Simple 
as  are  these  latter,  many  years  often  elapse  before  they  are 
all  procured  and  the  nuptials  may  be  celebrated,  the  par 
ties  remaining  steadfastly  constant  to  each  other  during 
the  long  time  of  waiting.  They  are  a  people  in  whom 
almost  any  honest  system  of  education,  any  possible  sound 
ideas  of  progress,  would  take  immediate  root ;  but  under 
the  combined  shadow  of  Spain  and  Home,  what  progress 
is  possible  ? 

I  have  never  seen  Broek,  in  Holland,  but  I  think  San 
Luis  must  be  the  cleanest  village  in  Europe.  I  attributed 
its  amazing  brightness,  as  we  approached,  to  the  keen, 
semi-African  sun  and  the  perfectly  clear  air ;  but  I  found 
that  all  the  houses  had  been  whitewashed  that  very  after 
noon,  as  they  regularly  are  every  Saturday.  The  street 
was  swept  so  conscientiously  that  we  might  have  seated 
ourselves  and  taken  our  dinner  anywhere,  without  getting 
more  than  each  man's  inevitable  proportion  of  dust  in  the 
dishes.  In  the  open  doors,  as  I  passed,  I  saw  floors  of 
shining  tiles,  clean  wooden  furniture,  women  in  threadbare 
but  decent  dresses,  and  children  —  no,  the  children  were 
dirty,  and  I  confess  I  should  not  have  been  pleased  to  see 


224  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

them  otherwise.  The  sand  and  fig-stains  on  those  little 
faces  and  hands  were  only  health-marks,  and  they  made 
the  brightness  of  the  little  village  endurable.  It  would 

O  O 

else  have  seemed  to  be  struck  with  an  unusual  disease. 
AVe  went  into  a  house  where  two  old  women  —  very,  very 
p  )or  they  were,  but  uncomplaining  —  received  us  with 
simple,  unaffected  friendliness.  I  spoke  in  Spanish  and 
they  in  Minorcnn,  so  that  the  conversation  was  not  very  in 
telligible  ;  but  the  visit  gave  me  a  fleeting  impression  of 
the  sterling  qualities  of  the  people,  inasmuch  as  it  harmo 
nized  with  all  that  I  had  previously  seen  and  heard. 

The  Consul  conducted  me  to  a  little  casino,  where  re 
freshments,  limited  in  character,  were  to  be  procured.  The 
maestro,  a  stout  fellow,  with  the  air  of  a  Bowery  butcher, 
opened  his  heart  on  learning  that  we  were  Americans.  He 
had  served  a  year  on  board  one  of  our  men-of-war,  and  re 
peated,  over  and  over  again,  "  The  way  things  were  man 
aged  there  satisfied  me,  —  it  corresponded  with  my  own 
ideas ! "  He  made  me  read,  around  a  spiral  pillar,  the 
words,  "  Casino  del  Progreso,"  saying,  "  That 's  what  I  go 
for ! "  There  was  a  church  nearly  opposite,  and  from  its 
architecture  a  man  with  half  an  eye  could  see  that  the 
Jesuits  had  had  a  hand  in  building  it.  This  I  sketched, 
and  the  progressive  host,  leaning  over  my  shoulder,  inter 
preted  the  drawing  correctly.  His  extravagant  admiration 
made  me  feel  that  I  had  done  well,  and  we  parted  mutually 
satisfied.  Indeed,  this  little  village  interested  me  even 
more  than  Port  Mahon,  because  it  was  more  purely  Minor- 
can  in  character. 

The  quantities  of  the  fig-bearing  cactus  about  the  coun 
try-houses  surprised  me,  until  I  learned  that  the  fleshy 
leaves  are  used  during  the  dry  season  as  food  for  the  mules 
and  asses.  The  fruit,  which  is  said  to  be  remarkably  fine 
on  the  island,  is  eaten  by  the  inhabitants,  and  must  form, 
in  times  of  want,  an  important  article  of  their  food ;  yet 
so  much  space  would  not  be  given  to  the  plant,  or  rather 


BALEARIC   DAYS.  225 

tree,  if  the  animals  had  not  been  taught  to  subsist  upon 
it.  I  have  never  before  heard,  in  any  part  of  the  world, 
of  the  cactus  being  made  useful  in  this  way.  Its  huge, 
grotesque  masses  are  an  inseparable  part  of  every  land 
scape  on  the  island. 

We  walked  back  to  Port  Mahon  in  the  face  of  a  north 
wind  which  was  almost  cold,  which  blew  away  the  rich 
color  from  the  sunset  sky,  leaving  it  pale,  clear,  and  melan 
choly  in  tone ;  yet  thunder  and  violent  rain  followed  in  the 
night.  I  spent  my  last  evening  with  the  Consul  and  his 
agreeable  family,  and  embarked  on  the  steamer  for  Bar 
celona  in  the  morning.  As  we  passed  out  of  the  harbor, 
Antonio's  daughter  waved  her  handkerchief  from  the  win 
dow  high  above,  on  the  cliff.  The  salute  was  not  intended 
for  me,  but  for  her  husband,  who  was  bound  for  Madrid, 
carrying  with  him  the  cheese  for  Marshal  Serrano.  Rocked 
on  a  rough  sea,  and  with  a  keen  wind  blowing,  we  again 
coasted  along  the  southern  shore  of  Minorca,  crossed  the 
strait,  touched  at  Alcudia.  and  then,  passing  the  mouth  of 
the  Bay  of  Pollenza,  reached  the  northern  headland  of 
Majorca  at  sunset.  Here  the  mountain-chain  falls  off  in 
perpendicular  walls  a  thousand  feet  in  height,  the  bases  of 
which  are  worn  into  caverns  and  immense  echoing  vaults. 
The  coast-forms  are  as  grand  and  wonderful  as  those  of 
Norway.  Point  after  point,  each  more  abrupt  and  distorted 
than  the  last,  came  into  view  as  we  cleared  the  headland  — 
all  growing  luminous  in  the  mist  and  the  orange  light  of 
the  setting  sun. 

Then  the  light  faded ;  the  wild  mountain-forms  were 
fused  together  in  a  cold  gray  mass  above  the  sea ;  the  stars 
came  out,  and  my  last  Balearic  day  was  at  an  end. 


15 


CATALOG  I  AN   BRIDLE-ROADS. 


"  And  mule-bells  tinkling  down  the  mountain-paths  of  Spain." 

Whittier* 


I  LEAKNED  something  of  the  bridle-roads  of  Catalonia 
in  defiance  of  advice  and  warning,  and  almost  against  my 
own  inclination.  My  next  point  of  interest,  after  leaving 
the  Balearic  Islands,  was  the  forgotten  Republic  of  Andorra, 
in  the  Pyrenees ;  and  the  voice  of  the  persons  whom  I 
consulted  in  Barcelona  —  none  of  whom  had  made  the 
journey,  or  knew  any  one  who  had  —  was  unanimous  that 
I  should  return  to  France,  and  seek  an  entrance  from  that 
side.  Such  a  course  would  certainly  have  been  more  com 
fortable;  but  the  direct  route,  from  the  very  insecurity 
which  was  predicted,  offered  a  prospect  of  adventure,  the 
fascination  of  which,  I  regret  to  say,  I  have  not  yet  entire 
ly  outgrown.  "  It  is  a  country  of  smugglers  and  robbers," 
said  the  banker  who  replenished  my  purse  ;  "  and  I  serious 
ly  advise  you  not  to  enter  it.  Moreover,  the  roads  are  al 
most  impassable,  and  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  on  the 


way." 


These  words,  uttered  with  a  grave  face  by  a  native  Cata 
lan,  ought  to  have  decided  the  matter,  yet  they  did  not. 
To  be  sure,  I  thanked  the  man  for  his  warning,  and  left 
him  to  suppose  that  I  would  profit  by  it,  rather  than  enter 
into  any  discussion ;  but  when  I  quitted  his  office,  with 
fresh  funds  in  my  pocket,  and  corresponding  courage  in 
my  bosom,  my  course  was  already  decided.  Had  I  not 
heard  the  same  warnings,  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  had 
not  the  picturesque  danger  always  fled  as  I  approached  it  ? 
Nevertheless,  there  came  later  moments  of  doubt,  the  sug 
gestions  of  that  convenient  life  which  we  lead  at  home,  and 
the  power  of  which  increases  with  our  years.  Fatigue  and 
hardship  do  not  become  lighter  from  repetition,  but  the  re- 


230  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

verse;  the  remembrance  of  past  aches  and  past  hunger 
returns  whenever  the  experience  is  renewed,  and  aggra 
vates  it. 

So,  when  I  had  descended  from  Montserrat,  and  was 
waiting  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  at  the  door  of  the  rudest 
possible  restaurant,  at  the  railway  station  of  Monistrol,  a 
little  imp  whispered :  "  The  first  train  is  for  Barcelona. 
Take  it  and  you  will  be  in  France  to-morrow  night.  This 
way  is  safe  and  speedy ;  you  know  not  what  the  other  may 
be."  I  watched  the  orange-light  fade  from  the  topmost 
pinnacles  of  Montserrat ;  a  distant  whistle  sounded,  and 
the  other  pilgrims  hurried  towards  the  ticket-office.  I 
followed  them  as  far  as  the  door,  paused  a  moment,  and 
then  said  to  myself:  "  No,  if  I  back  out  now,  I  shall  never 
be  sure  of  myself  again  ! "  Then  I  returned  to  my  seat 
beside  the  door,  and  saw  the  train  go  by,  with  the  feeling 
of  a  man  who  has  an  appointment  with  a  dentist. 

In  another  hour  came  the  upward  train,  which  would 
carry  me  as  far  as  the  town  of  Manresa,  where  my  doubt 
ful  journey  commenced.  It  was  already  dusk,  and  deli- 
ciously  cool  after  the  fierce  heat  of  the  day.  A  full  moon 
shone  upon  the  opposite  hills  as  I  sped  up  the  valley  of 
the  Llobregat,  and  silvered  the  tops  of  the  olives ;  but  I 
only  saw  them  in  glimpses  of  unconquerable  sleep,  and 
finally  descended  at  the  station  of  Manresa  not  fully  awake. 

A  rough,  ragged  porter  made  a  charge  upon  my  valise, 
which  I  yielded  to  his  hands.  "  Take  it  to  the  best  hotel," 
I  said.  "  Ah,  that  is  the  '  Chicken  ! ' "  he  replied.  Now,  the 
driver  of  the  omnibus  from  Montserrat  had  recommended 
the  "  San  Domingo,"  which  had  altogether  a  better  sound 
than  the  "  Chicken  ; "  but  I  did  not  think  of  resisting  my 
fate.  I  was  conscious  of  a  wonderful  moonlight  picture, — 
of  a  town  on  a  height,  crowned  by  a  grand  cathedral ;  of  a 
winding  river  below  ;  of  steep  slopes  of  glimmering  houses ; 
of  lofty  hills,  seamed  with  the  shadows  of  glens ;  and  of 
the  sparkle  of  orange-leaves  in  the  hanging  gardens.  This 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  231 

while  we  were  crossing  a  suspension-bridge  ;  at  the  end,  we 
plunged  into  narrow,  winding  streets,  full  of  gloom  and  dis 
agreeable  odors.  A  few  oil-lamps  burned  far  apart ;  there 
were  lights  in  the  upper  windows  of  the  houses,  and  the 
people  were  still  gossiping  with  their  neighbors.  When 
we  emerged  into  a  plaza,  it  was  more  cheerful ;  the  single 
cafe,  was  crowded,  the  estanco  for  the  sale  of  tobacco,  and 
the  barber's  shop  were  still  open.  A  little  farther  and  we 
reached  the  "  Chicken,"  which  was  an  ancient  and  uninvit 
ing  house,  with  a  stable  on  the  ground-floor.  Here  the 
porter  took  his  fee  with  a  grin,  and  saying,  "  You  will  want 
me  in  the  morning ! "  wished  me  good  night. 

I  mounted  to  a  dining-room  nearly  fifty  feet  in  length,  in 
which  a  lonely  gentleman  sat,  waiting  for  his  supper.  When 
the  hostess  had  conducted  me  to  a  bedroom  of  equal  dimen 
sions,  and  proceeded  to  put  clean  sheets  upon  a  bed  large 
enough  for  four  Michigan  soldiers,  I  became  entirely  recon 
ciled  to  my  fate.  After  trying  in  vain  to  extract  any  intel 
ligence  from  a  Madrid  newspaper,  I  went  to  bed  and  slept 
soundly ;  but  the  little  imp  was  at  my  ear  when  I  woke,  say 
ing  :  "  Here  you  leave  the  railway ;  after  this  it  will  not  be 
so  easy  to  turn  back."  "  Very  well,"  I  thought,  "  I  will  go 
back  now."  I  opened  the  shutters,  let  the  full  morning  sun 
blaze  into  the  room,  dipped  my  head  into  water,  and  then 
cried  out :  "  Begone,  tempter !  I  go  forwards."  But,  alas ! 
it  was  not  so  once.  There  is  a  difference  between  spring 
ing  nimbly  from  one's  rest  with  a  "  Hurrah  !  there's  another 
rough  day  before  me !  "  and  a  slow  clinging  to  one's  easy 
pillow,  with  the  sigh,  "Ah!  must  I  go  through  another 
rough  day  ?  "  However,  that  was  my  last  moment  of  weak 
ness,  and  physical  only  —  being  an  outcry  of  the  muscles 
against  the  coming  aches  and  strains,  like  that  of  the  pack- 
camel  before  he  receives  his  load. 

The  first  stage  of  my  further  journey,  I  learned,  could  be 
made  by  a  diligence  which  left  at  eleven  o'clock.  In  the 
mean  time  I  wandered  about  the  town,  gathering  an  im- 


232  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

pression  of  its  character  quite  distinct  from  that  of  the  pre 
vious  evening.  It  has  no  architectural  monuments ;  for  the 
cathedral,  like  all  such  edifices  in  Spain,  is  unfinished,  inter 
nally  dark,  and  well  supplied  with  bad  pictures.  Its  posi 
tion,  nevertheless,  is  superb,  and  the  platform  of  rock  upon 
which  it  stands  looks  over  a  broad,  bright,  busy  landscape. 
The  sound  of  water-wheels  and  the  humming  looms  of  fac 
tories  fills  the  air ;  however  primitive  the  other  forms  of 
labor  may  be,  the  people  all  seem  to  be  busy.  The  high 
houses  present  an  agreeable  variety  of  color,  although  a 
rich  brown  is  predominant ;  many  of  them  have  balconies, 
and  the  streets  turn  at  such  unexpected  angles  that  light  and 
shade  assist  in  making  pictures  everywhere.  Manresa  has 
a  purely  Spanish  aspect,  and  the  groups  on  the  plaza  and  in 
the  shady  alleys  are  as  lively  and  glowing  as  any  in  Anda 
lusia. 

I  read  the  history  of  the  place,  .as  given  in  the  guide 
books,  but  will  not  here  repeat  it.  According  to  my  En 
glish  guide,  it  was  sacked  and  its  inhabitants  butchered  by 
the  French,  during  the  Peninsular  War ;  according  to  the 
French  guide,  nothing  of  the  kind  ever  took  place.  As  I 
read  the  books  alternately,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
both  sides  must  have  been  splendidly  victorious  in  the 
battles  which  were  fought  in  Spain.  When  the  Englishman 
said :  "  Here  our  army,  numbering  only  eighteen  thousand 
men  (of  whom  eight  thousand  were  Spanish  allies,  of  doubt 
ful  service),  encountered  thirty-seven  thousand  French,  and 
completely  routed  them,"  the  Frenchman  had  :  "  Here  our 
army,  numbering  only  fifteen  thousand,  including  seven 
thousand  Spaniards,  put  to  flight  thirty-three  thousand 
English  —  one  of  the  most  brilliant  actions  of  the  war." 
At  this  rate  of  representation,  it  will  be  a  disputed  ques 
tion,  in  the  next  century,  whether  Soult  or  Wellington  was 
driven  out  of  Spain. 

My  porter  of  the  night  before  made  his  appearance,  and 
as  I  had  suspected  him  of  interested  motives  in  conducting 


CATALOXIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  233 

me  to  the  "  Chicken,"  I  tested  his  character  by  giving  a 
smaller  fee  for  an  equal  service  ;  but  he  took  it  with  the  same 
thanks.  Moreover,  the  diligence  office  was  in  the  "  San  Do 
mingo  Hotel,"  and  I  satisfied  myself  that  the  "  Chicken  "  was 
really  better  than  the  Saint.  Two  lumbering  yellow  coaches 
stood  in  the  spacious  stable,  which  was  at  the  same  time  en 
trance-hall  and  laundry.  On  one  side  some  lean  mules  were 
eating  their  barley ;  on  another,  a  pump  and  stone  trough 
supplied  the  house  with  water  ;  a  stone  staircase  led  to  the 
inhabited  rooms,  and  three  women  were  washing  clothes  at 

t3 

a  tank  in  the  rear.  Dogs  ran  about  scratching  themselves; 
country  passengers,  with  boxes  and  baskets,  sat  upon  stone 
posts  and  did  the  same  ;  and  now  and  then  a  restless  horse 
walked  forth  from  the  stalls,  snuffing  at  one  person  after 
another,  as  if  hoping  to  find  one  who  might  be  eatable. 
Two  mayorah  or  coachmen,  followed  by  two  grooms,  bustled 
about  with  bits  of  harness  in  their  hands,  and  the  washer 
women  made  a  great  clatter  with  their  wooden  beetles ;  but 
the  time  passed,  and  nothing  seemed  to  be  accomplished  on 
either  side.  The  whole  scene  was  so  thoroughly  Spanish 
that  no  one  would  have  been  surprised  had  the  Don  and 
Sancho  ridden  into  the  doorway.  One  of  the  women  at  the 
tank  was  certainly  Maritornes. 

At  length,  after  a  great  deal  of  ceremony,  one  of  the 
vehicles  drove  off.  "  It's  going  to  Berga,"  said  a  man  in 
faded  velvet,  in  answer  to  my  question  ;  k%  and  all  I  know  is, 
that  that 's  the  way  to  Puigcerda."  The  mules  were  now 
harnessed  to  our  diligence  and  we  took  our  places  —  my 
friend  in  velvet ;  two  stout  women,  one  of  whom  carried 
six  dried  codfish  tied  in  a  bundle  ;  a  shriveled  old  man,  a 
mild  brown  soldier,  and  myself.  It  was  an  hour  behind  the 
appointed  time,  but  no  one  seemed  to  notice  the  delay.  We 
rolled  out  of  the  ammoniated  shadows  of  the  stable  into  a 
olaze  which  was  doubled  on  the  white  highway,  and  thrown 
back  to  us  from  the  red,  scorched  rocks  beside  it.  The 
valley  of  the  Cardoner,  which  we  entered  on  leaving  Man- 


234  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

resa,  quivered  in  the  breathless  heat :  the  stream  was  almost 
exhausted  in  its  bed,  and  the  thin  gray  foliage  of  the  poplars 
and  olives  gave  but  a  mockery  of  shadow.  Everywhere  the 
dry,  red  soil  baked  in  the  sunshine.  The  only  refreshing 
thing  I  saw  was  a  break  in  an  irrigating  canal,  which  let 
down  a  cascade  over  the  rocks  into  the  road.  No  water  in 
the  world  ever  seemed  so  cool,  so  fresh,  so  glittering ;  in  the 
thirsty  landscape  it  flashed  like  a  symbol  of  generous,  prod 
igal  life.  Who  could  fling  gold  around  him  with  so  beauti 
ful  a  beneficence  ? 

The  features  of  the  scenery,  nevertheless,  were  too  bold 
and  picturesque  to  be  overlooked.  As  we  gained  a  longer 
vista,  Montserrat  lifted  his  blue  horns  over  the  nearer  hills, 
and  a  dim  streak  of  snow,  far  in  the  northwest,  made  signal 
for  the  Pyrenees.  Abrupt  as  were  the  heights  inclosing  the 
valley,  they  were  cultivated  to  the  summit,  and  the  brown 
country-houses,  perched  on  projecting  spurs,  gave  them  a 
life  which  the  heat  ai)d  thirsty  color  of  the  soil  could  not 
take  away.  Our  destination  was  Cardona,  and  after  a 
smothering  ride  of  two  hours  we  reached  the  little  village 
of  Suria,  half-way  in  distance,  but  by  no  means  in  time. 
Beyond  it,  the  country  became  rougher,  the  road  steep  and 
toilsome ;  and  our  three  mules  plodded  slowly  on,  with 
drooping  heads  and  tails,  while,  inside,  the  passengers  nod 
ded  one  after  the  other,  and  became  silent.  We  crossed  the 
Cardoner,  and  ascended  a  long  slope  of  the  hills,  where  the 
view,  restricted  to  the  neighboring  fields,  became  so  monot 
onous  that  I  nodded  and  dozed  with  the  rest. 

We  were  all  aroused  by  the  diligence  stopping  beside  a 
large  farm-house.  There  was  a  general  cry  for  water,  and 
the  farmer's  daughter  presently  came  out  with  a  stone 
pitcher,  cool  and  dripping  from  the  well.  The  glass  was 
first  given  to  me,  as  a  stranger;  and  T  was  about  setting  it 
to  my  lips,  when  two  or  three  of  the  passengers  suddenly 
cried  out,  "  Stop  !  "  I  paused,  and  looked  around  in  sur 
prise.  The  man  in  velvet  had  already  dropped  a  piece  of 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  235 

sugar  into  the  water,  and  the  old  woman  opposite  took  a 
bottle  from  her  basket,  saying,  "  This  is  better  !  "  and  added 
a  spoonful  of  anise-seed  brandy.  "  Now,"  exclaimed  both  at 
the  same  time,  "  you  can  drink  with  safety."  The  supply  of 
sugar  and  anise-seed  held  out,  and  each  passenger  was  re 
galed  at  the  expense  of  the  two  Samaritans.  After  this,  con 
versation  brightened,  and  we  all  became  talkative  and  friend 
ly.  The  man  in  velvet,  learning  my  destination,  exclaimed  : 
"  O,  you  ought  to  have  gone  by  way  of  Berga  !  It  is  a  dread 
ful  country  about  Solsona  and  the  Rio  Segre."  But  the  old 
woman  leaned  over  and  whispered  :  "  Don't  mind  what  lie 
says.  I  come  from  Solsona,  and  it's  a  good  country  —  a 
very  good  country,  indeed.  Go  on,  and  you  will  see  ! " 

The  valley  of  the  Cardoner  had  become  narrower,  the 
mountains  were  higher,  and  there  were  frequent  ruins  of 
mediaeval  castles  on  the  summits.  When  we  had  reached 
the  top  of  the  long  ascent,  the  citadel  of  Cardona  in  front 
suddenly  rose  sharp  and  abrupt  over  the  terraced  slopes  of 
vine.  It  appeared  to  be  within  a  league,  but  our  coachman 
was  so  slow  and  the  native  passengers  so  patient,  that  we  did 
not  arrive  for  two  hours.  Drawing  nearer,  the  peculiar  colors 
of  the  earth  around  the  base  of  an  isolated  mountain  an 
nounced  to  us  the  celebrated  salt-mines  of  the  place.  Red, 
blue,  purple,  yellow,  and  gray,  the  bare  cliffs  glittered  in  the 
sun  as  if  frosted  over  with  innumerable  crystals.  This  mass 
of  native  salt  is  a  mile  and  a  half  in  circumference,  with  a 
height  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  action  of 
the  atmosphere  seems  to  have  little  effect  upon  it,  and  the 
labor  of  centuries  lias  no  more  than  tapped  its  immense 
stores.  As  in  Wieliczka,  in  Poland,  the  workmen  in  the 
mines  manufacture  cups,  ornaments,  pillars,  and  even  chan 
deliers,  from  the  pure  saline  crystal — objects  which, 
although  they  remain  perfect  in  the  dry  atmosphere  of 
Spain,  soon  melt  into  thin  air  when  carried  to  Northern 
lands. 

The  town  of  Cardona  occupies  the  crest  of  a  sharp  hill, 


236  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


rising  above  the  mountain  of  salt.  Between  it  and  the  river, 
on  the  north,  stands  the  citadel,  still  more  loftily  perched, 
like  a  Greek  acropolis.  Our  road  passed  entirely  around 
the  latter  and  mounted  to  the  town  on  the  opposite  side, 
where  the  diligence  set  us  down  in  front  of  a  rudefonda. 
The  old  gate  was  broken  down,  the  walls  ruined,  and  the 
first  houses  we  passed  were  uninhabited.  There  was  no 
longer  an  octroi ;  in  fact,  the  annoyances  of  travel  in  Spain 
diminish  in  proportion  as  one  leaves  the  cities  and  chief 
thoroughfares.  As  I  dismounted,  the  coachman  took  hold 
of  my  arm,  saying,  "  Cavalier,  here  is  a  decent  man  who  will 
get  a  horse  for  you,  and  travel  with  you  to  the  Seo  de  Urgel. 
I  know  the  man,  and  it  is  I  who  recommend  him."  The  per 
son  thus  introduced  was  a  sturdy,  broad-shouldered  fellow, 
with  short  black  hair,  and  hard,  weather-beaten  features. 
He  touched  his  red  Catalan  cap,  and  then  looked  me  stead 
ily  in  the  face  while,  in  answer  to  my  inquiries,  he  offered  to 
be  ready  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  and  demanded 
six  dollars  for  himself  and  horse,  the  journey  requiring  two 
days.  There  were  two  or  three  other  arrieros  present,  but 
I'  plainly  saw  that  none  of  them  would  enter  into  competi 
tion  with  a  man  recommended  by  the  coachman.  More 
over,  as  far  as  appearances  went,  he  was  the  best  of  the  lot, 
and  so  I  engaged  him  at  once. 

While  the  fat  hostess  of  thefonda  was  preparing  my  din 
ner,  I  strolled  for  an  hour  or  two  about  the  town.  The 
church  is  renowned  for  having  been  founded  in  the  year 
820,  immediately  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Moors  from  this 
part  of  Spain,  and  for  containing  the  bodies  of  St.  Celadonio 
and  St.  Eineterio  —  whoever  those  holy  personages  may 
have  been.  I  confess  I  never  heard  of  them  before.  What 
I  admired  in  the  church  was  the  splendid  mellow  brown  tint 
of  its  massive  ancient  front.  Brown  is  the  characteristic 
color  of  Spain,  from  the  drapery  of  Murillo  and  the  walls 
of  cathedrals  to  the  shadow  of  cypresses  and  the  arid  soil 
of  the  hills.  Whether  brightening  into  gold  or  ripening 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  237 

into  purple,  it  always  seems  to  give  the  key  of  color.  In 
the  streets  of  Cardona,  it  was  the  base  upon  which  endless 
picturesque  groups  of  people  were  painted,  —  women  spin- 
ing  flax,  children  cooling  their  bare  bodies  on  the  stones, 
blacksmiths  and  cobblers  forging  and  stitching  in  the  open 
air  —  all  with  a  keen  glance  of  curiosity,  but  also  a  respect 
ful  greeting  for  the  stranger.  The  plaza,  which  was  called, 
like  all  plazas  in  Catalonia,  de  la  Constitution,  overhung  the 
deep  ravine  at  the  foot  of  the  salt  mountain.  From  its 
parapet  I  looked  upon  the  vineyard-terraces  into  which  the 
hills  have  been  fashioned,  and  found  them  as  laboriously 
constructed  as  those  of  the  Rheingau.  A  cliff  of  salt  below 
sparkled  like  prismatic  glass  in  the  evening  light,  but  all  the 
nearer  gardens  lay  in  delicious  shadow,  and  the  laden  asses 
began  to  jog  homewards  from  the  distant  fields.  There  was 
a  cafe  on  the  plaza  patronized  only  by  two  or  three  military 
idlers ;  the  people  still  worked  steadily  while  the  daylight 
lasted,  charming  away  their  fatigue  by  the  most  melancholy 
songs. 

The  inn  was  not  an  attractive  place.  The  kitchen  was 
merely  one  corner  of  the  public  room,  in  which  chairs  lay 
overturned  and  garments  tumbled  about,  as  if  the  house 
had  been  sacked.  The  members  of  the  family  sat  and 
chattered  in  this  confusion,  promising  whatever  I  de 
manded,  but  taking  their  own  time  about  getting  it.  I  had 
very  meagre  expectations  of  dinner,  and  was  therefore  not 
a  little  surprised  when  excellent  fresh  fish,  stewed  rabbits, 
and  a  roasted  fowl  were  set  successively  before  me.  The 
merry  old  landlady  came  and  went,  anxious  to  talk,  but 
prevented  by  her  ignorance  of  the  pure  Spanish  tongue. 
However,  she  managed  to  make  me  feel  quite  at  home, 
and  well  satisfied  that  I  had  ventured  so  far  into  the  re 
gion  of  ill-repute. 

What  was  going  on  in  the  town  that  night  I  cannot  ima 
gine  ;  but  it  was  a  tumult  of  the  most  distracting  kind. 
First,  there  were  drums  and  —  as  it  seemed  to  me  —  tin 


233  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 


pans  beaten  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  street  below ;  then 
a  chorus  of  piercing,  dreadfully  inharmonious  voices  ;  then 
a  succession  of  short  cries  or  howls,  like  those  of  the 
oriental  dervishes.  Sometimes  the  noises  moved  away, 
and  I  settled  myself  to  sleep,  whereupon  they  came  back 
worse  than  before.  "  O  children  of  Satan  !  "  I  cried,  "  will 
ye  never  be  still  ?  "  Some  time  after  midnight  the  voices 
became  hoarse :  one  by  one  dropped  off,  and  the  charivari 
gradually  ceased,  from  the  inability  of  the  performers  to 
keep  it  up  longer.  Then  horses  were  led  forth  from  the 
stable  on  the  ground-floor,  whips  were  violently  cracked, 
and  the  voices  of  grooms  began  to  be  heard.  At  three 
o'clock  Juan,  my  new  guide,  came  into  the  room  with  a 
coarse  bag,  in  which  he  began  packing  the  contents  of  my 
valise,  which  could  not  otherwise  be  carried  on  horseback, 
and  so  my  rest  was  over  before  it  had  commenced. 

I  found  the  diligence  about  starting  on  its  return  to 
Manresa,  and  my  horse,  already  equipped,  standing  in  the 
stable.  The  sack,  valise,  and  other  articles  were  so  packed, 
before  and  behind  the  saddle,  that  only  a  narrow,  deep 
cleft  remained  for  me  to  sit  in.  The  sun  had  not  yet  risen, 
and  the  morning  air  was  so  cool  that  I  determined  to  walk 
down  the  hill  and  mount  at  the  foot.  Stepping  over  two 
grooms  who  were  lying  across  the  stable  door  on  a  piece  of 
hide,  sound  asleep,  we  set  forth  on  our  journey. 

The  acropolis  rose  dark  against  the  pearly  sky,  and  the 
valley  of  the  Cardoner  lay  cool  and  green  in  the  lingering 
shadows.  Early  as  was  the  hour,  laborers  were  already  on 
their  way  to  the  fields  ;  and  when  we  reached  the  ancient 
bridge  of  seven  arches,  I  saw  the  two  old  ladies  of  Solsona 
in  advance,  mounted  on  mules,  and  carrying  their  baskets, 
boxes,  and  dried  codfish  with  them.  Although  my  French 
guide-book  declared  that  the  road  before  me  was  scarcely 
practicable,  the  sight  of  these  ladies  was  a  better  authority 
to  the  contrary.  I  mounted  at  the  bridge,  and  joined  the 
cavalcade,  which  was  winding  across  a  level  tract  of  land, 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  239 

between  walled  fields  and  along  the  banks  of  irrigating 
canals.  Juan,  however,  found  the  mules  too  slow,  and 
soon  chose  a  side-path,  which,  in  the  course  of  a  mile  or 
two,  brought  us  into  the  main  track,  some  distance  in  ad 
vance  of  the  old  ladies.  By  this  time  the  sun  was  up  and 
blazing  on  all  the  hills ;  the  wide,  open  country  about  Car- 
dona  came  to  an  end,  and  we  struck  into  a  narrow  glen, 
covered  with  forests  of  pine.  Juan  directed  me  to  ford 
the  river  and  follow  the  track  on  the  opposite  side,  while 
he  went  on  to  a  foot-bridge  farther  up.  "  In  a  few  mi 
nutes,"  he  said,  "  you  will  find  a  carretera"  —  a  cart-road, 
which  proved  to  be  a  superb  macadamized  highway,  yet 
virgin  of  any  wheel.  Men  were  working  upon  it,  smooth 
ing  the  turf  on  either  side,  and  leveling  the  gravel  as  care 
fully  as  if  the  Queen's  mail-coach  travelled  that  way ;  but 
the  splendid  piece  of  workmanship  has  neither  beginning 
nor  end,  and  will  be  utterly  useless  until  it  touches  a  fin 
ished  road  somewhere. 

A  short  distance  farther  the  glen  expanded,  and  I  re- 
crossed  the  river  by  a  lofty  new  bridge.  The  road  was 
carried  over  the  bottom-land  on  an  embankment  at  least 
forty  feet  high,  and  then  commenced  ascending  the  hills 
on  the  northern  bank.  After  passing  a  little  village  on  the 
first  height,  we  entered  a  forest  of  pine,  which  continued 
without  interruption  for  four  or  five  miles.  The  country 
became  almost  a  wilderness,  and  wore  a  singular  air  of 
loneliness,  contrasted  with  the  busy  region  I  had  left  be 
hind.  As  I  approached  the  summit,  the  view  extended 
far  and  wide  over  a  dark,  wooded  sweep  of  hills,  rarely 
broken  by  a  solitary  farm-house  and  the  few  cleared  fields 
around  it.  On  the  nearer  slope  below  me  there  was  now 
and  then  such  a  house ;  but  the  most  of  them  were  in 
ruins,  and  young  pines  were  shooting  up  in  the  deserted 
vineyards.  The  Catalans  are  so  laborious  in  their  habits, 
so  skilled  in  the  art  of  turning  waste  into  fruitful  land, 
that  there  must  have  been  some  special  reason  for  this 


240  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


desolation.  My  guide  either  could  not  or  would  not  ex 
plain  it 

When  we  reached  the  northern  side  of  the  mountain, 
cultivation  again  commenced,  and  I  saw  the  process  of 
clearing  woodland  and  preparing  the  soil  for  crops.  The 
trees  are  first  removed,  the  stumps  and  roots  dug  up,  and 
then  all  the  small  twigs,  brambles,  weeds,  and  dry  sticks, 
—  everything,  in  fact,  which  cannot  be  used  for  lumber 
and  firewood,  —  are  gathered  into  little  heaps  all  over  the 
ground,  and  covered  with  the  top  soil.  A  year,  probably, 
must  elapse,  before  these  heaps  are  tolerably  decomposed ; 
then  they  are  spread  upon  the  surface  and  ploughed  under. 
The  virgin  soil  thus  acquired  is  manured  after  every  crop, 
and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an  exhausted  field. 

The  fine  highway  came  to  an  end  as  suddenly  as  it  had 
commenced,  in  the  rough  forest,  with  no  village  near.  The 
country  became  broken  and  irregular,  and  the  bridle-path 
descended  continually  through  beautiful  groves  of  oak, 
with  an  undergrowth  of  box  and  lavender,  the  odors  from 
which  filled  the  air.  I  was  nearly  famished,  when,  after 
a  journey  of  five  or  six  leagues,  we  emerged  from  the 
woods,  and  saw  the  rich  valley-basin  of  Solsona  before  us, 
with  the  dark  old  town  in  its  centre.  Here,  again,  every 
available  foot  of  soil  was  worked  into  terraces,  drained  or 
irrigated  as  the  case  might  be,  and  made  to  produce  its 
utmost.  As  I  rode  along  the  low  walls,  the  ripe,  heavy 
ears  of  wheat  leaned  over  and  brushed  my  head.  Although 
there  is  no  wheeled  vehicle  —  not  even  a  common  cart  — 
in  this  region,  all  the  roads  being  the  rudest  bridle  paths, 
the  town  is  approached  by  a  magnificent  bridge  of  a  dozen 
arches,  spanning  a  grassy  hollow,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
flows  a  mere  thread  of  a  brook. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  bridge,  a  deserted  gateway 
ushers  the  traveller  into  Solsona.  Few  strangers,  I  sus 
pect,  ever  enter  the  place  ;  for  labor  ceased  as  I  passed 
alon<r  the  streets,  and  even  Don  Basilio,  on  his  way  home 


CATALOXIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  241 

from  morning  mass,  lifted  his  shovel  hat,  and  bowed  pro 
foundly.  Many  of  the  houses  were  in  ruins,  and  bore  the 
marks  of  fire  and  balls.  I  rode  into  the  ground-floor  of  a 
dark  house  which  bore  no  sign  or  symbol  over  the  door, 
but  Juan  assured  me  that  it  was  an  inn.  A  portly,  digni 
fied  gentleman  advanced  out  of  the  shadows,  and  addressed 
me  in  the  purest  Castilian  ;  he  was  the  landlord,  and  his 
daughter  was  cook  and  waiting-maid.  The  rooms  above 
were  gloomy  and  very  ancient ;  there  was  scarcely  a  piece 
of  furniture  which  did  not  appear  to  be  two  centuries  old ; 
yet  everything  was  clean  and  orderly. 

"  Can  we  have  breakfast  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Whatever  we  have  is  at  your  disposition,"  said  the  land 
lord.  "  What  would  you  be  pleased  to  command  ?  " 

"  Eggs,  meat,  bread,  and  wine  ;  but  nothing  that  cannot 
be  got  ready  in  a  few  minutes." 

The  landlord  bowed,  and  went  into  the  kitchen.  Pres 
ently  he  returned  and  asked,  "  Did  I  understand  you  to 
wish  for  meat,  Cavalier  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  if  you  have  it,"  I  replied. 

"  Yes,  we  have  it  in  the  house,"  said  he ;  "  but  I  didn't 
know  what  your  custom  was." 

I  did  not  guess  what  he  meant  until  a  plate  of  capital 
mutton-chops  was  smoking  under  my  nose.  Then  it 
flashed  across  my  mind  that  the  day  was  Friday,  and  I  no 
better  than  a  heathen  in  the  eyes  of  my  worthy  host.  Ac 
cording  to  the  country  custom  of  Spain,  master  and  groom 
fare  alike,  and  Juan  took  his  seat  beside  me  without  wait 
ing  for  an  invitation.  I  ought  to  have  invited  the  landlord, 

rt  & 

but  I  was  too  hungry  to  remember  it.     To  my  surprise — ' 
and  relief  also  —  Juan  ate  his  share  of  the  chops,  and  there 
was  a  radiant  satisfaction  on  his  countenance.     I  have  no 
doubt  he  looked  upon  me  as  the  responsible  party,  and  did 
not  even  consider  it  worth  while  to  confess  afterwards. 
"  You  have  a  beautiful  country  here,"  I  remarked  to  the 

16 


242  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

landlord,  knowing  that  such  an  expression  is  always  ac 
cepted  as  a  half-compliment. 

"  It  is  a  country,"  he  exclaimed  with  energy,  "  que  nada 
faUa,  —  which  lacks  nothing !  There  is  everything  you 
want ;  there  is  not  a  better  country  under  the  sun  !  No,  it 
is  not  the  country  that  we  complain  of." 

"  What  then  ?  "  I  asked. 

For  a  moment  he  made  no  reply,  then,  apparently  chang 
ing  the  subject,  said,  "  Did  you  see  the  houses  in  ruins  as 
you  came  into  Solsona?  That  was  done  in  the  Carlist 
wars.  We  suffered  terribly  :  nearly  half  the  people  of  this 
region  were  slaughtered." 

"  What  good  comes  of  these  wars  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Is  any 
thing  better  than  it  was  before  ?  What  have  you  to  offset 
all  that  fire  and  murder  ?  " 

"  That's  it ! "  he  cried ;  "  that  was  what  I  meant." 

He  shook  his  head  in  a  melancholy  way,  drank  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  said,  as  if  to  prevent  my  continuing  the  sub 
ject  :  "  You  understand  how  to  travel,  or  you  would  not 
come  into  such  wild  parts  as  these.  But  here,  instead  of 
having  the  rattling  of  cart-wheels  in  your  ears  all  day,  you 
have  the  songs  of  the  nightingales.  You  don't  have  dust  in 
your  nose,  but  the  smell  of  grain  and  flowers ;  you  can 
start  when  you  please,  and  ride  as  far  as  you  like.  That's 
my  way  to  travel,  and  I  wish  there  were  more  people  of  the 
same  mind.  We  don't  often  see  a  foreign  cavalier  in 
Solsona,  yet  it's  not  a  bad  country,  as  you  yourself  say." 

By  this  time  Juan  and  I  had  consumed  the  chops  and 
emptied  the  bottle ;  and,  as  there  were  still  six  leagues  to 
be  travelled  that  day,  we  prepared  to  leave  Solsona.  The 
town,  of  barely  two  thousand  inhabitants,  has  an  ancient 
church,  a  deserted  palace  of  the  former  Dukes  of  Cardona, 
and  a  miraculous  image  of  the  Virgin  — neither  of  which 
things  is  sufficiently  remarkable  in  its  way  to  be  further 
described.  The  age  of  the  place  is  apparent ;  a  dark,  cool, 
mournful  atmosphere  of  the  Past  fills  its  streets,  and  the 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  243 

traces  of  recent  war  seem  to  have  been  left  from  mediaeval 
times. 

The  sky  was  partly  overcast,  but  there  was  an  intense, 
breathless  heat  in  the  air.  Our  path  led  across  the  boun 
teous  valley  into  a  wild  ravine,  which  was  spanned  by  two 
ancient  aqueducts.  The  pointed  arch  of  one  of  them 
hinted  of  Moorish  construction,  as  well  as  the  platform  and 
tank  of  a  fountain  in  a  rocky  nook  beyond.  Here  the 
water  gushed  out  in  a  powerful  stream,  as  in  those  foun 
tains  of  the  Anti-Lebanon  in  the  country  of  Galilee. 
Large  plane-trees  shaded  the  spot,  and  the  rocks  overhung 
it  on  three  sides,  yet  no  one  was  there  to  enjoy  the  shade 
and  coolness.  The  place  was  sad,  because  so  beautiful 
and  so  lonely. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  ravine  we  entered  a  forest  of 
pine,  with  an  undergrowth  of  box,  and  commenced  ascend 
ing  the  mountain-range  dividing  the  Valley  of  Solsona  from 
that  of  the  Rio  Salado.  It  might  have  been  the  Lesser 
Atlas,  and  the  sky  that  of  Africa,  so  fierce  was  the  heat,  so 
dry  and  torn  the  glens  up  the  sides  of  which  toiled  my 
laboring  horse.  Birds  and  insects  were  alike  silent :  the 
lizard,  scampering  into  his  hole  in  the  red  bank  of  earth, 
was  the  only  living  thing.  For  an  hour  or  more  we  slowly 
plodded  upward ;  then,  emerging  from  the  pine  wood  upon 
a  barren  summit,  I  looked  far  and  wide  over  a  gray,  for 
bidding,  fiery  land.  Beyond  the  Salado  Valley,  which  lay 
beneath  me,  rose  a  range  of  uninhabited  mountains,  half 
clothed  with  forest  or  thicket,  and  over  them  the  outer 
Pyrenees,  huge  masses  of  bare  rock,  cut  into  sharp,  irreg 
ular  forms.  A  house  or  two,  and  some  cultivated  patches, 
were  visible  along  the  banks  of  the  Salado ;  elsewhere, 
there  was  no  sign  of  habitation. 

The  bajada,  or  descent  to  the  river,  was  so  steep  and 
rough  that  I  was  forced  to  dismount  and  pick  my  way 
down  the  zigzags  of  burning  sand  and  sliding  gravel.  At 
the  bottom  I  forded  the  river,  the  water  of  which  is  saline. 


244  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

and  then  hastened  to  a  mill  upon  the  further  bank,  to  pro 
cure  a  cup  of  water.  The  machinery  was  working  in 
charge  of  a  lusty  girl,  who  shut  off  the  water  while  she  ran 
to  a  spring  in  the  ravine  behind,  and  filled  an  earthen  jar. 
There  was  nothing  of  Spanish  grace  and  beauty  about  her. 
She  had  gray  eyes,  a  broad,  flat  nose,  brown  hair,  broad 
shoulders,  and  the  arms  and  legs  of  a  butcher.  But  she 
was  an  honest,  kind-hearted  creature,  and  the  joyous  good 
will  with  which  she  served  me  was  no  less  refreshing  than 
the  water. 

The  path  now  followed  the  course  of  the  Rio  Salado, 
under  groves  of  venerable  ilex,  which  fringed  the  foot  of 
the  mountain.  Thickets  of  box  and  tamarisk  overhung 
the  stream,  and  the  sight  of  the  water  rushing  and  mur 
muring  through  sun  and  shade,  made  the  heat  more  endur 
able.  Another  league,  however,  brought  me  to  the  little 
hamlet  of  Ojern,  where  my  road  took  to  the  hills  again. 
Nature  has  given  this  little  place  a  bay  of  rich  soil  between 
the  river  and  the  mountains,  man  has  blackened  it  with 
fire  and  riddled  it  with  shot ;  and  between  the  two  it  has 
become  a  complete  and  surprising  picture.  Out  of  superb 
gardens  of  orange  and  fig  trees,  over  hedges  of  roses  and 
wild  mounds  of  woodbine,  rise  the  cracked  and  tottering 
walls  —  heaps  of  ruin,  but  still  inhabited.  Nothing  could 
be  finer  than  the  contrast  of  the  riotous  vegetation,  strug 
gling  to  grow  away  from  the  restraining  hand  into  its  sav 
age  freedom,  with  the  firm  texture,  the  stubborn  forms  and 
the  dark,  mellow  coloring  of  the  masonry.  Of  course  the 
place  was  dirty,  and  offended  one  sense  as  much  as  it  de 
lighted  the  other.  It  is  a  pity  that  neatness  and  comfort 
cannot  be  picturesque. 

I  knew  that  the  Rio  Segre  could  not  be  very  distant,  but 
I  was  far  from  guessing  how  much  the  way  might  be 
lengthened  by  heat  and  almost  impracticable  roads.  This 
ascent  was  worse  than  the  former,  since  there  was  no  forest 
to  throw  an  occasional  shade.  A  scrubby  chaparral  covered 


CATALONIAN  BRIDLE-ROADS.  245 

the  red  and  flinty  slopes,  upon  which  the  sun  beat  until 
the  air  above  them  quivered.  My  horse  was  assailed  with 
a  large  gad-fly,  and  kicked,  stamped,  and  whirled  his  head 
as  if  insane.  I  soon  had  occasion  to  notice  a  physiological 
fact  —  that  the  bones  of  a  horse's  head  are  more  massive 
than  those  of  the  human  shin.  When  we  reached  the  sum 
mit  of  the  mountain,  after  a  long,  long  pull,  I  was  so 
bruised,  shaken,  and  exhausted  that  Juan  was  obliged  to 
help  me  out  of  the  saddle,  or  rather,  the  crevice  between 
two  piles  of  baggage  in  which  I  was  wedged.  The  little 
imp  came  back  chuckling,  and  said,  "  I  told  you  so !  "  In 
such  cases.  I  always  recall  Cicero's  consolatory  remark,  and 
go  on  my  way  with  fresh  courage. 

Moreover,  far  below,  at  the  base  of  the  bare  peaks  of 
rock  which  rose  against  the  western  sky,  I  saw  the  glitter 
of  the  Rio  Segre,  and  knew  that  my  day's  labor  was  nearly 
at  an  end.  The  descent  was  so  rugged  that  I  gave  the 
reins  to  Juan,  and  went  forward  on  foot.  After  getting 
down  the  first  steep,  the  path  fell  into  and  followed  the 
dry  bed  of  a  torrent,  which  dropped  rapidly  towards  the 
river.  In  half  an  hour  I  issued  from  the  fiery  ravine,  and 
was  greeted  by  a  breeze  that  had  cooled  its  wings  on  the 
Pyrenean  snow.  Olive-trees  again  shimmered  around  me, 
and  a  valley-bed  of  fruitful  fields  expanded  below.  A  mile 
further,  around  the  crest  of  the  lower  hills,  I  found  myself 
on  a  rocky  point,  just  over  the  town  of  Oliana.  It  was  the 
oldest  and  brownest  place  I  had  seen,  up  to  this  time  ;  but 
there  was  shade  in  its  narrow  streets,  and  rest  for  me  under 
one  of  its  falling  roofs.  A  bell  in  the  tall,  square  tower  of 
the  church  chimed  three ;  and  Juan,  coming  up  with  the 
horse,  insisted  that  I  should  mount,  and  make  my  entrance 
as  became  a  cavalier. 

I  preferred  comfort  to  dignity  ;  but  when  everybody  can 
see  that  a  man  has  a  horse,  he  really  loses  nothing  by 
walking.  The  first  houses  we  passed  appeared  to  be  de 
serted  ;  then  came  the  main  street,  in  which  work,  gossip, 


246  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


and  recreation  were  going  on  in  the  open  air.  Here  there 
was  a  swinging  sign  with  the  word  "  Hostal  "  over  the  inn 
door,  and  most  welcome  was  that  inn,  with  its  unwashed 
floors,  its  fleas,  and  its  odors  of  garlic.  I  was  feverish  with 
the  absorption  of  so  much  extra  heat,  and  the  people 
gave  me  the  place  of  comfort  at  an  open  window,  with  a 
view  of  green  fields  between  the  poplars.  Below  me  there 
was  a  garden  belonging  to  the  priest,  who,  in  cassock  and 
shovel-hat,  was  inspecting  his  vegetables.  Gathering  up 
his  sable  skirts,  he  walked  mincingly  between  the  rows  of 
lettuce  and  cauliflower,  now  and  then  pointing  out  a  lan 
guishing  plant,  which  an  old  woman  in  attendance  then 
proceeded  to  refresh  by  flinging  water  upon  it  with  a  pad 
dle,  from  a  tank  in  a  corner  of  the  garden.  Browning's 
"  Soliloquy  in  a  Spanish  Cloister  "  came  into  my  head,  and 
I  think  I  should  have  cried  out,  could  the  padre  have  un 
derstood  the  words :  "  O,  that  rose  has  prior  claims !  "  I 
must  say,  however,  that  the  garden  was  admirably  kept, 
and  the  priest's  table  was  all  the  better  for  his  horticultural 
tastes. 

There  were  three  or  four  jolly  fellows  in  the  inn,  who 
might  have  served  in  Sherman's  army,  they  were  so  tall 
and  brown  and  strong.  My  attention  was  drawn  from  the 
priest  by  their  noise  and  laughter,  and  I  found  them  gath 
ered  about  a  wild-looking  man,  dressed  in  rags.  The  lat 
ter  talked  so  rapidly,  in  the  Catalan  dialect,  that  I  could 
understand  very  little  of  what  he  said  ;  but  the  landlady 
came  up  and  whispered,  "  He's  a  loco  (an  idiot),  but  he 
does  no  harm."  To  me  he  seemed  rather  to  be  a  genius, 
with  a  twist  in  his  brain.  He  was  very  quick  in  retort, 
and  often  turned  the  laugh  upon  his  questioner  ;  while 
from  his  constant  appeals  to  "  Maria  Santissima,"  a  strong 
religious  idea  evidently  underlay  his  madness.  The  land 
lord  gave  him  a  good  rneal,  and  he  then  went  on  his  way, 
cheerful,  perhaps  happy,  in  his  isolation. 

I  suppose  Juan  must  have  been  well   satisfied  to  eat 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  247 

meat  on  a  Friday  without  the  sin  being  charged  to  his  per 
sonal  account,  and  must  therefore  have  given  a  hint  to  the 
landlord ;  for,  without  my  order,  a  chicken  was  set  before 
me  at  dinner,  and  he  took  the  drumsticks  as  of  right. 
When  the  sun  got  behind  the  tall  mountain  opposite,  I 
wandered  about  the  town,  seeing  nothing  that  seems  worthy 
of  being  recorded,  yet  every  view  was  a  separate  delight 
which  I  cannot  easily  forget.  There  were  no  peculiarities 
of  architecture  or  of  costume  ;  but  the  houses  were  so 
quaintly  irregular,  the  effects  of  light  and  shade  so  bold 
and  beautiful,  the  colors  so  balanced,  that  each  street  with 
its  inhabitants  might  have  been  painted  without  change. 
There  was  a  group  before  the  shoemaker's  door  —  the 
workman  on  his  bench,  a  woman  with  a  shoe,  a  young  fel 
low  in  a  scarlet  cap,  who  had  paused  to  say  a  word,  and 
two  or  three  children  tumbling  on  the  stones ;  another  at 
the  fountain  —  women  filling  jars,  coming  and  going  with 
the  load  on  hip  or  head ;  another  at  the  barber's,  and  all 
framed  by  houses  brown  as  Murillo's  color,  with  a  back 
ground  of  shadow  as  rich  as  Rembrandt's.  These  are  sub 
jects  almost  too  simple  to  paint  with  the  pen  ;  they  require 
the  pencil. 

In  the  evening,  the  sultry  vapors  which  had  been  all  day 
floating  in  the  air  settled  over  the  gorge,  and  presently 
thunder-echoes  were  buffeted  back  and  forth  between  the 
rocky  walls.  The  skirts  of  a  delicious  rain  trailed  over  the 
valley,  and  Night  breathed  odor  and  coolness  and  healing 
balsam  as  she  came  down  from  the  western  peaks.  Rough 
and  dirty  as  was  the  guests'  room  of  the  "  hostal,"  my  bed 
room  was  clean  and  pleasant.  A  floor  of  tiles,  a  simple 
iron  washstand  resembling  an  ancient  tripod,  one  chair, 
and  a  bed,  coarsely,  but  freshly  spread  —  what  more  can  a 
reasonable  man  desire  ?  The  linen  (though  it  is  a  bull  to 
say  so)  was  of  that  roughly  woven  cotton  which  one  finds 
only  in  southern  Europe,  Africa,  and  the  Orient,  which  al 
ways  seems  cool  and  clean,  and  has  nothing  in  common 


248  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

with  the  frouzy,  flimsy  stuff  we  find  in  cheap  places  at 
home.  Whoever  has  slept  in  a  small  new  town  (I  beg  par 
don,  "  city  ")  on  an  Illinois  prairie,  knows  the  feeling  of 
soft,  insufficient  sheets  and  flabby  pillows,  all  hinting  of 
frequent  use,  between  which  he  thinks,  ere  sleep  conquers 
his  disgust,  of  the  handkerchief  which  awaits  him  as  towel 
in  the  morning.  In  the  poorest  inn  in  Spain  I  am  better 
lodged  than  in  the  Jimplecute  House  in  Roaring  City. 

Juan  called  me  at  three  o'clock,  for  another  severe  day 
was  before  us.  Our  road  followed  the  course  of  the  Rio 
Segre,  and  there  were  no  more  burning  mountains  to 
climb ;  but  both  M.  de  Lavigne  and  Mr.  Ford,  in  the  little 
which  they  vouchsafed  to  say  of  this  region,  mentioned  the 
frightful  character  of  the  gorges  through  which  the  river 

o  o        o  o 

breaks  his  way  downward  to  the  Ebro ;  and  their  accounts, 
if  the  timid  traveller  believes  them,  may  well  deter  him 
from  making  the  journey.  In  the  cool  half-hour  before 
sunrise,  as  1  rode  across  the  circular  valley,  or  conque,  of 
Oliana,  towards  the  gloomy  portals  of  rock  out  of  which 
the  river  issues,  my  spirits  rose  in  anticipation  of  the  wild 
scenery  beyond.  The  vineyards  and  orchards  were  wet 
and  fresh,  and  the  air  full  of  sweet  smells.  Clouds  rested 
on  all  the  stony  summits,  rising  or  falling  as  the  breeze 
shifted.  The  path  mounted  to  the  eastern  side  of  the 
gorge,  where,  notched  along  the  slanting  rock,  it  became  a 
mere  thread  to  the  eye,  and  finally  disappeared. 

As  I  advanced,  however,  I  found  that  the  passage  was 
less  dangerous  than  it  seemed.  The  river  roared  far 
below,  and  could  be  reached  by  a  single  plunge ;  but  there 
was  a  good,  well-beaten  mule-track  —  the  same,  and  prob 
ably  the  only  one,  which  has  been  used  since  the  first 
human  settlement.  Soon  after  entering  the  gorge,  it  de 
scended  to  within  a  hundred  feet  of  the  river,  and  then 
crossed  to  the  opposite  bank  by  a  bold  bridge  of  a  single 
arch,  barely  wide  enough  for  a  horse  to  walk  upon.  The 
parapet  on  either  side  was  not  more  than  two  feet  high, 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  249 

and  it  was  not  a  pleasant  sensation  to  look  down  from  the 
saddle  upon  the  roaring  and  whirling  flood.  Yet  the  feel 
ing  was  one  which  must  be  mastered ;  for  many  a  mile  of 
sheer  precipice  lay  before  me.  The  Segre  flows  through  a 
mere  cleft  in  the  heart  of  the  terrible  mountains,  and  the 
path  continuously  overhangs  the  abyss.  Bastions  of  naked 
rock,  a  thousand  feet  high,  almost  shut  out  the  day;  and 
the  traveller,  after  winding  for  hours  in  the  gloom  of  their 
shadows,  feels  as  if  buried  from  the  world. 

The  sides  of  the  gorge  are  nearly  perpendicular,  and  the 
dark  gray  rock  is  unrelieved  by  foliage,  except  where  soil 
enough  has  lodged  to  nourish  a  tuft  of  box ;  yet  here  and 
there,  wherever  a  few  yards  of  less  abrupt  descent  occur, 
in  spots  not  entirely  inaccessible,  the  peasants  have  built 
a  rude  wall,  smoothed  the  surface,  and  compelled  a  scanty 
tribute  of  grass  or  grain.  Tall,  wild-looking  figures,  in 
brown  jackets  and  knee-breeches,  with  short,  broad-bladed 
scythes  flashing  on  their  shoulders,  met  us;  and  as  they 
leaned  back  in  the  hollows  of  the  rock  to  let  us  pass,  with 
the  threatening  implements  held  over  their  heads,  a  very 
slight  effort  of  the  imagination  made  them  more  dangerous 
than  the  gulf  which  yawned  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
path.  They  were  as  rough  and  savage  as  the  scenery  in 
appearance  ;  but  in  reality  they  were  simple-hearted,  honest 
persons.  All  that  I  saw  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  part  of 
Catalonia  assured  me  that  I  was  perfectly  safe  among  them. 
After  the  first  day  of  my  journey,  I  gave  up  the  prospect 
of  finding  danger  enough  to  make  an  adventure. 

By  and  by  the  path,  so  lonely  for  the  first  hour  after 
starting,  began  to  be  animated.  The  communication  be- 

O'  O 

tween  the  valleys  of  the  Spanish  Pyrenees  and  the  lower 
Segre,  as  far  as  Lerida,  is  carried  on  through  this  defile, 
and  pack-mules  were  met  from  time  to  time.  Juan  walked 
in  advance,  listening  for  the  tinkling  bells  of  the  coming 
animals,  and  selecting  places  were  the  road  was  broad 
enough  for  us  to  pass  without  clanger.  Sometimes  I  waited, 


250  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


sometimes  they  —  one  leaning  close  against  tlje  rock,  one 
pacing  slowly  along  the  brink,  with  the  riverjljelow  boom 
ing  into  caverns  cut  out  of  the  interlocking  bases  of  the 
mountains.  As  the  path  sank  or  rose,  accommodating  it 
self  to  the  outline  of  the  cliffs,  and  the  bells  of  the  unseen 
mules  or  horses  chimed  in  front  around  some  corner  of  the 
gorge,  they  chimed  to  my  ears  the  words  of  another,  who 
foresaw  as  well  as  remembered. 

0.  dear  and  distant  Friend  and  Poet !  henceforth  I  shall 
hear  your  voice  in  this  music  of  Spain.  All  that  day,  in 
the  wild  and  wonderful  canons  of  the  Segre,  you  rode  with 
me  ;  and  poetical  justice  demanded  that  I  should  have  paid, 
like  Uhland  to  his  boatman,  for  the  other  spirit  who  sat 
upon  my  weary  steed.  I  tried  to  look  with  your  clear  eyes, 
so  quick  to  detect  and  interpret  beauty  ;  and  I  try  now  to 
write  of  the  scenery,  so  that  you  may  behold  it  through 
mine.  As  turn  after  turn  of  the  winding  gorge  disclosed 
some  grander  conformation  of  the  overhanging  heights, 
some  new  pinnacle  of  rock  piercing  the  air,  or  cavern 
opening  its  dark  arch  at  the  base  of  a  precipice,  I  drew 
you  from  your  quiet  cottage  by  the  Merrimack,  and  said,  as 
we  paused  together  in  a  myrtle-roofed  niche  in  the  rocks, 
"  All  this  belongs  to  us,  for  we  alone  have  seen  it ! " 

But,  alas  !  how  much  of  subtle  form,  of  delicate  grada 
tion  of  color,  of  fleeting  moods  of  atmosphere,  escapes  us 
when  we  try  to  translate  the  experience  of  the  eyes !  I 
endeavor  to  paint  the  living  and  breathing  body  of  Nature, 
and  I  see  only  a  hard  black  silhouette,  like  those  shadows 
of  grandfathers  which  hang  in  old  country  homes.  Only 
to  minds  that  of  themselves  understand  and  can  guess  is 
the  effort  not  lost.  A  landscape  thus  partly  describes  it 
self;  and  so,  in  this  case,  I  must  hope  that  something  of 
the  grand  and  lonely  valley  of  the  Rio  Segre  may  have 
entered  into  my  words. 

Perhaps  the  best  general  impression  of  the  scenery  may 
be  suggested  by  a  single  peculiarity.  Two  hours  after 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  251 

entering  the  defile,  I  issued  from  it  into  the  conque  of 
Nargo  —  an  open  circular  basin  some  three  miles  in 
breadth,  beyond  which  the  mountains  again  interlock. 
The  term  conque  (shell?)  is  applied  to  these  valleys,  which 
occur  regularly  at  intervals  of  from  six  to  ten  miles  ;  and 
their  arrangement  is  picturesquely  described  in  French  as 
as  being  en  chapekt,  for  they  are  literally  strung  like  beads 
on  the  thread  of  the  river.  No  part  of  Europe  is  so  old 
(to  the  eye)  as  these  valleys.  There  seems  to  have  been 
no  change  for  a  thousand  years.  If  the  air  were  not  so 
dry,  one  could  fancy  that  the  villages  would  be  gradually 
buried  under  a  growth  of  moss  and  lichens.  The  brown 
rust  on  their  masonry  is  almost  black,  the  walls  of  the  ter 
raced  fields  are  as  secure  in  their  places  as  the  natural  rock, 
and  the  scars  left  by  wars  are  not  to  be  distinguished  from 
those  of  age.  Whenever  there  is  a  surplus  of  population  it 
must  leave,  for  it  cannot  be  subsisted.  There  may  be 
mountain-paths  leading  inland  from  these  valleys,  but  none 
are  visible  ;  each  little  community  is  inclosed  by  a  circle 
of  tremendous  stony  walls  and  pinnacles,  which  the  river 
alone  has  been  able  to  pierce. 

At  the  further  end  of  the  conque  of  Nargo  lay  the  vil 
lage,  perched  upon  a  bold  crag.  Several  sharp,  isolated 
mountains,  resembling  the  horns  and  needles  of  the  Alps, 
rose  abruptly  out  of  the  open  space  ;  and  their  lower  faces 
of  dark  vermilion  rock  made  a  forcible  contrast  with  the 
splendid  green  of  the  fields.  We  did  not  pause  in  the 
village,  but  descended  its  ladder  of  a  street  to  the  river- 
wall,  and  plunged  at  once  into  a  second  gorge,  as  grand 
and  savage  as  the  first,  though  no  more  than  a  league  in 
extent.  Juan  again  went  ahead  and  warned  the  coming 
muleteers.  In  another  hour  I  reached  the  conque  of  Or- 
gaiia,  a  rich  and  spacious  tract  of  land,  with  the  village  of 
the  same  name  on  a  rock,  precisely  like  Nargo.  A  high, 
conical  peak  on  the  left  appeared  to  be  inaccessible,  yet 
there  was  a  white  chapel  on  its  very  summit.  u  Look 
there  ! "  said  Juan,  "that  saint  likes  a  cool  place." 


2i>2  BY-WAYS   OF   EUEOPE. 

Fine  old  walnut-tree  made  their  appearance  in  this 
valley  ;  water  was  everywhere  abundant,  and  the  gardens 
through  which  I  approached  the  village  were  filled  with 
shade  and  the  sound  of  streams.  Indeed,  the  terraces  of 
ancient  vines  and  fruit-trees,  mixed  with  cypresses  and 
bosky  alleys  of  flowering  shrubs,  might  have  belonged  to 
the  palaces  of  an  extinct  nobility ;  but  the  houses  which 
followed  were  those  of  peasants,  smoky  with  age,  low,  dark, 
and  dirty.  A  pack  of  school-children,  in  the  main  street, 
hailed  me  with  loud  shouts,  whereat  the  mechanics  looked 
up  from  their  work,  and  the  housewives  came  to  the  doors. 
There  was  a  dusky  inn,  with  a  meek,  pinched  landlady, 
who  offered  eggs  and  a  guisado  (stew)  with  tomatoes. 
While  these  were  cooking,  she  placed  upon  the  table  a 
broad-bellied  bottle  with  a  spout,  something  like  an  old- 
fashioned  oil-can  in  shape.  I  was  not  Catalan  enough  to 
drink  without  a  glass  ;  but  Juan  raising  the  bottle  above 
his  head,  spirted  a  thin  stream  of  wine  into  his  open  mouth, 
and  drank  long  and  luxuriously.  When  he  was  satisfied,  a 
dexterous  turn  of  the  wrist  cut  off  the  stream,  and  not  a 
drop  was  spilled.  At  the  table,  these  bottles  pass  from 
hand  to  hand  —  one  cannot  say  from  mouth  to  mouth,  for 
the  lips  never  touch  them.  I  learned  to  drink  in  the  same 
fashion  without  much  difficulty,  and  learned  thereby  that 
much  of  the  flavor  of  the  wine  is  lost.  The  custom  seems 
to  have  been  invented  to  disguise  a  bad  vintage. 

While  we  were  breakfasting,  a  French  peasant,  whom  I 
had  seen  at  Oliana,  arrived.  He  was  on  foot,  and  bound 
for  Foix,  by  way  of  Andorra.  This  was  also  my  route,  and 
I  accepted  his  offer  of  engaging  another  horse  for  me  at 
Urgel,  in  the  evening,  and  accompanying  me  over  the  Pyr 
enees.  He  was  not  a  very  agreeable  person,  but  it  was  a 
satisfaction  to  find  some  one  with  whom  I  could  speak.  I 
left  him  at  the  table,  with  a  company  of  Spanish  muleteers, 
and  never  saw  him  afterwards. 

Before  leaving  Organa,  I  was  stopped  in  the  street  by  a 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  253 

man  who  demanded  money,  saying  something  about  the 
"  Pons,"  which  I  could  not  comprehend.  It  finally  oc 
curred  to  me  that  the  defile  through  which  I  was  about  to 
pass  is  named  Los  tres  Pons  (The  Three  Bridges)  on  the 
old  maps  of  Catalonia,  and  that  the  man  was  asking  for 
toll  —  which  proved  to  be  the  case.  The  three  cuartos 
which  1  paid  were  the  veriest  trifle  for  the  privilege  of 
passing  over  such  a  road  as  followed.  The  mountains  were 
here  loftier,  and  therefore  more  deeply  cloven ;  the  former 
little  attempts  at  cultivation  ceased,  for  even  Catalonian 
thrift  shrank  from  wresting  any  profit  out  of  walls  so  bare 
and  bluff  that  scarcely  a  wild  goat  could  cling  to  their 
ledges.  Two  hundred  feet  below,  the  river  beat  against 
the  rocks  with  a  sullen,  mysterious  sound,  while,  from  one 
to  two  thousand  feet  above,  the  jagged  coping  of  the  pre 
cipices  cut  the  sky.  A  cool,  steady  wind  drew  down  the 
cleft,  filling  it  with  a  singular  humming  sound.  The  path 
crossed  to  the  eastern  side  by  a  tremulous  wooden  bridge 
laid  flat  upon  natural  abutments ;  then,  a  mile  further,  re- 
crossed  by  a  lofty  stone  arch,  under  which  there  was  a 
more  ancient  one,  still  perfect.  Several  miles  of  the  same 
wonderful  scenery  succeeded  —  scenery  the  like  of  which 
I  know  not  where  to  find  in  Switzerland.  The  gorge  of 
Gondo,  on  the  Italian  side  of  the  Simplon,  is  similar  in 
character,  but  less  grand  and  majestic.  Far  up  in  the  enor 
mous  cliffs,  I  saw  here  and  there  the  openings  of  cav 
erns,  to  which  no  man  has  ever  climbed  ;  cut  into  the 
heart  of  inaccessible  walls  were  unexpected  glens,  green 
nests  of  foliage,  safe  from  human  intrusion,  where  the 
nightingales  sang  in  conscious  security ;  and  there  were 
points  so  utterly  terrible  in  all  their  features  that  the  ex 
istence  of  a  travelled  path  was  the  greatest  wonder  of  all. 
In  the  preceding  defiles,  Nature  had  accidentally  traced 
out  the  way,  but  here  it  had  been  forced  by  sheer  labor 
and  daring.  Sometimes  it  was  hewn  into  the  face  of  the 
upright  rock  ;  sometimes  it  rested  on  arches  built  up  from 


254  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

below,  the  worn  masonry  of  which  threatened  to  give  way 
as  I  passed  over.  Now,  fortunately,  the  tinkling  of  mule- 
bells  was  rare,  for  there  were  few  points  where  travellers 
could  safely  meet.  Convulsion  was  as  evident  in  the  struc 
ture  of  the  mountains  themselves  as  in  their  forcible  sep 
aration.  In  some  places  the  perpendicular  strata  were 
curiously  bent,  as  if  the  top  had  cooled  rapidly  and  begun 
to  lean  over  upon  the  fluid  ascending  mass.  The  summits 
assumed  the  wildest  and  most  fantastic  forms,  especially 
about  the  centre  of  the  mountain  range.  When  I  had 
crossed  the  third  bridge,  which  is  more  than  a  league 
above  the  second,  the  heights  fell  away,  the  glen  gradually 
opened,  and  I  saw  before  me  the  purple  chain  of  the  Pyr 
enees,  mottled  with  dark  patches  of  forest,  and  crested 
with  snow. 

The  pass  of  The  Three  Bridges  has  its  tragic  episode 
of  recent  history,  in  addition  to  those  which  the  centuries 
have  forgotten.  Here,  forty  years  ago,  the  Count  of  Spain, 
who  governed  Catalonia  in  the  name  of  Ferdinand  VIL, 
was  betrayed  by  his  own  adjutant,  by  whom,  and  by  a  priest 
named  Ferrer,  he  was  murdered.  The  deed  is  supposed  to 
have  been  committed  at  the  instigation  of  Don  Carlos.  A 
stone  was  tied  to  the  corpse,  and  it  was  flung  from  the 
rocks  into  the  torrent  of  the  Segre.  The  place  breathes 
of  vengeance  and  death  ;  and  one  seems  to  inhale  a  new 
air  when  he  emerges  into  the  conque  of  Le  Pla,  after 
being  inclosed  for  two  hours  within  those  terrible  gates. 

It  was  ti  double  delight  to  me  to  come  upon  lush  mead 
ows,  and  smell  the  vernal  sweetness  of  the  flowering  grass. 
Leaving  the  river  on  my  left,  I  struck  eastward  along  the 
sides  of  clayey  hills,  with  slopes  of  vine  above  me,  and  the 
broad  green  meadows  below.  The  vegetation  had  already 
a  more  northern  character ;  clumps  of  walnut,  poplar,  and 
willow  grew  by  the  brooksides,  and  the  fields  of  wheat  were 
not  yet  ripe  for  harvest.  I  passed  a  picturesque,  tumbling 
village  called  Arfa,  crossed  the  Segre  for  the  last  time,  and 


CATALONIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  255 

then  rode  onward  into  a  valley  several  miles  in  diameter, 
the  bed  of  which  was  broken  by  rounded  hills.  This  was 
the  Valley  of  Urgel,  or  "  the  See,"  —  el  seu,  as  it  is  called 
by  the  people  in  their  dialect.  The  term  recalls  the  days 
when  the  Bishop  was  a  sovereign  prince,  and  his  see  a 
temporal,  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  government. 

Juan  pointed  out  a  fortress  in  advance,  which  I  supposed 
to  be  the  town.  Near  it,  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  there  was 
a  mass  of  buildings,  baking  in  the  afternoon  sun ;  and  I 
know  not  which  was  most  melancholy,  the  long  lines  of 
cracked,  deserted  ramparts  on  the  hill,  or  the  crumbling, 
uninhabited  houses  on  the  slope  below.  I  did  not  see  six 
persons  in  the  place,  which  was  not  Urgel,  but  Castel 
Ciudad.  The  former  city  is  a  mile  further,  seated  in  the 
centre  of  the  plain.  I  saw,  on  my  left,  the  mouth  of  a  glen 
of  the  Pyrenees,  and  guessed,  before  the  groom  said  so, 
that  within  its  depths  lay  the  forgotten  Republic  of  An 
dorra.  The  Valira,  the  one  stream  of  the  Republic,  poured 
upon  the  plain  its  cold  green  waters,  which  I  forded,  in 
several  channels,  before  reaching  the  gates  of  Urgel. 

Juan  had  cheered  me  with  the  promise  of  a  good  inn. 
The  exterior  of  the  house  was,  if  anything,  a  trifle  meaner 
than  that  of  the  neighboring  houses  ;  the  entrance  was 
through  a  stable,  and  the  kitchen  and  public  room  very 
dirty ;  yet,  these  once  passed,  I  entered  a  clean,  spacious, 
and  even  elegant  bedroom.  A  door  therefrom  opened 
upon  a  paved  terrace,  with  a  roof  of  vine  and  a  superb 
view  of  the  Pyrenees ;  and  hither,  as  I  sat  and  rested  my 
weary  bones,  came  the  landlord,  and  praised  the  country. 
There  was  inexhaustible  coal  in  the  mountains,  he  said  ; 
there  was  iron  in  the  water  ;  the  climate  was  the  best  in 
Spain  ;  people  were  healthy  and  lived  long  —  and  the  only 
thing  wanting  was  a  road  to  some  part  of  the  world. 

The  towns  through  which  I  had  passed  seemed  as  old 
and  lonely  as  any  towns  could  well  be  ;  but  they  are  tame 
beside  the  picturesque  antiquity  of  Urgel.  Nothing  seems 


256  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

to  have  been  changed  here  since  the  twelfth  century.  The 
streets  are  narrow  and  gloomy,  but  almost  every  house 
rests  on  massive  arches,  which  form  continuous  arcades, 
where  the  mechanics  sit  and  ply  their  avocations.  The 
vistas  of  these  arched  passages  are  closed  either  with  a 
single  building  of  very  primitive  and  ponderous  architec 
ture,  or  by  the  stones  of  a  wall  as  old  as  the  times  of  the 
Moors.  The  place  is  like  a  gallery  of  old  sepia  drawings. 
I  attracted  the  usual  wonder,  as  I  loitered  through  the 
gloom  of  the  arcades  ;  work  was  suspended  while  I  passed, 
and  tongues  were  silent.  When  I  entered  the  venerable 
cathedral,  which  was  finished  six  hundred  years  ago,  the 
solitary  worshipper  stopped  in  the  midst  of  an  ave,  and 
stared  at  me  with  open  mouth.  The  spacious  Gothic  nave, 
however,  was  less  attractive  than  the  pictures  outside  ;  so  I 
passed  from  the  interior  to  the  exterior  shadows  —  one 
about  as  dense  as  the  other.  Presently  I  came  upon  a 
massive  house,  with  a  magnificent  flat-roofed  arbor  of 
grapes  beside  it,  and  was  saying  to  myself  that  there  was 
one  fortunate  person  in  the  poverty-stricken  capital,  when 
the  door  opened  and  Don  Basilio  came  forth  with  sweeping 
cassock  and  enormous  hat.  A  little  further,  I  found  my 
self  in  a  small  plaza,  one  side  of  which  was  occupied  by  a 
building  resembling  a  fortress.  Over  the  door  I  read  the 
inscription,  "  Princeps  soberan  del  Vails  de  Andorra." 
This  was  the  residence  of  the  bishop,  who  claims  the  title 
of  sovereign  of  the  little  republic  ;  his  powers,  in  fact,  being 
scarcely  more  than  nominal. 

I  was  tempted  to  present  myself  to  his  Reverence,  and 
state  my  intention  of  visiting  Andorra  ;  but  my  information 
with  regard  to  the  republic  was  so  vague  that  I  knew  not 
how  such  a  visit  might  be  regarded.  I  might  be  creating 
difficulty  where  none  existed.  With  this  prudent  reflec 
tion  I  returned  to  the  inn,  and  engaged  a  fresh  horse  and 
guide  for  the  morrow,  sending  Juan  back  to  Cardona.  It 
was  but  an  hour's  ride,  the  landlord  said,  to  the  frontier. 


CATALOXIAN   BRIDLE-ROADS.  257 

The  region  of  ill-repute  lay  behind  me  ;  the  difficult  bridle- 
roads  were  passed,  and  all  evil  predictions  had  come  to 
naught.  By-ways  are  better  than  highways,  and  if  an  in 
telligent  young  American,  who  knows  the  Spanish  language, 
will  devote  a  year  to  the  by-ways  of  Spain,  living  with  the 
people  and  in  their  fashion,  he  will  find  that  all  the  good 
books  of  observation  and  adventure  have  not  yet  been 
written. 


17 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF  THE  PYRENEES. 


THERE  are  remote,  forgotten  corners  of  history,  as  there 
are  of  geography.  When  Halevy  brought  out  his  opera  Le 
Val  d'Andorre,  the  name  meant  no  more  to  the  most  of 
those  who  heard  it  than  the  Valley  of  Rasselas  to  our  ears, 
—  a  sound,  locating  a  fiction.  But  the  critic,  who  must 
seem  to  know  everything,  opened  one  of  his  lexicons,  and 
discovered  that  Andorra  was  an  actual  valley,  buried  in  the 
heart  of  the  Pyrenees.  Furthermore,  he  learned,  for  the 
first  time,  that  its  territory  was  an  independent  republic, 
preserved  intact  since  the  days  of  Charlemagne ;  that  both 
France  and  Spain,  incredible  as  the  fact  may  appear,  have 
always  scrupulously  respected  the  rights  granted  to  its 
inhabitants  more  than  a  thousand  years  ago.  While  the 
existence  of  every  other  state  has  in  turn  been  menaced, 
while  hundreds  of  treaties  have  been  made  only  to  be 
broken,  here  is  a  place  where,  like  the  castle  of  the  Sleep 
ing  Beauty,  time  has  stood  still,  and  History  shut  up  her 
annals. 

Napoleon,  when  a  deputation  from  the  little  republic 
visited  him  in  Paris,  said :  "  I  have  heard  of  this  Andorra, 
and  have  purposely  abstained  from  touching  it,  because  I 
thought  it  ought  to  be  preserved  as  a  political  curiosity." 
Louis  Philippe,  thirty  years  later,  exclaimed  :  "  What !  is  it 
possible  that  I  have  a  neighbor  whose  name  I  never  heard 
before  ?  "  I  suspect  that  the  name  of  Andorra  on  the  ex 
cellent  German  maps,  which  overlook  nothing,  was  the 
first  indication  of  the  existence  of  the  state  to  many  of  those 
who  are  now  acquainted  with  it.  It  was  so  in  my  case. 
From  noting  its  position,  and  seeing  its  contracted  bound 
aries,  so  carefully  marked  out,  I  went  further,  and  picked 


262  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

up  what  fragments  of  information  could  be  found  in  French 
and  German  geographical  works.  These  were  sufficiently 
curious  to  inspire  me  with  the  design  of  visiting  the  valley. 

On  reaching  Urgel,  in  the  Spanish  Pyrenees,  I  was 
within  a  league  of  the  Andorran  frontier.  My  way  thither 
lay  through  the  deep  gorge  out  of  which  the  river  Valira 
issues,  on  its  way  to  the  Segre.  The  bald,  snow-streaked 
summits  in  the  north  belonged  to  the  territory  of  the  re 
public,  but  whatever  of  life  and  labor  it  contained  was 
buried  out  of  sight  in  their  breast.  Nevertheless,  the 
vague  and  sometimes  threatening  reports  of  the  people 
which  had  reached  me  at  a  distance  here  vanished.  Every 
body  knew  Andorra,  and  spoke  well  of  it.  I  had  some 
difficulty  in  finding  a  horse,  which  the  landlord  declared 
was  on  account  of  the  unpractical  shape  and  weight  of  my 
valise  ;  but,  when  I  proposed  going  on  foot,  an  animal  was 
instantly  produced.  The  arrieros  could  not  let  a  good 
bargain  slip  out  of  their  hands. 

It  was  a  wonderful  morning  in  mid  June.  The  shadow 
of  the  Pyrenees  still  lay  cool  upon  the  broad  basin  of 
Urgel ;  but  the  brown  ramparts  of  Castel  Ciudad  on  the 
rocks,  and  all  the  western  heights,  sparkled  in  sunshine. 
I  found  a  nimble  mountain  pony  waiting  for  me  at  the  door 
of  the  inn,  and  Julian,  my  guide,  a  handsome  fellow  of 
twenty,  in  rusty  velvet  jacket  and  breeches,  and  scarlet 
Phrygian  cap.  A  skin  as  brown  as  an  Arab's ;  an  eye  full 
of  inexpressible  melancholy ;  a  grave,  sttent,  but  not  gloomy 
nature  —  all  these  had  Julian ;  yet  he  was  the  very  com 
panion  for  such  a  journey.  He  strode  from  the  gate  of 
Urgel  with  a  firm,  elastic  step,  and  I  followed  through  the 
gray  olive  orchards  across  the  plain.  The  lower  terraces 
of  the  mountain  were  silvery  with  the  olive ;  but  when 
the  path  turned  into  the  gorge  of  the  Valira,  the  landscape 
instantly  changed.  On  one  side  rose  a  rocky  wall ;  on  the 
other,  meadows  of  blossoming  grass,  divided  by  thickets  of 
alder  and  willow,  slanted  down  to  the  rapid  stream,  the 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  2C3 

noise  of  which  could  scarcely  be  heard  for  the  songs  of  the 
nightingales.  Features  like  these,  simple  as  they  may 
seem,  sometimes  have  a  singular  power  to  warm  one's  an 
ticipations  of  what  lies  beyond.  There  is  a  promise  in 
certain  scenery  ;  wherein  it  exists  I  cannot  tell,  but  I  have 
felt  it  frequently,  and  have  never  yet  been  disappointed. 

After  I  had  threaded  the  gorge  for  two  miles,  it  expanded 
into  a  narrow  valley,  where  the  little  Spanish  village  of 
Arcacel  lay  huddled  among  the  meadows.  Beyond  it,  the 
mountains  closed  together  again,  forming  an  almost  impas 
sable  canon,  along  the  sides  of  which  the  path  was  labo 
riously  notched.  There  were  a  great  many  people  abroad, 
and  Julian  was  obliged  to  go  in  advance,  and  select  spots 
where  my  horse  could  pass  their  mules  without  one  or  the 
other  being  pushed  into  the  abyss  below.  Some  of  those 
I  met  were  probably  Andorrans,  but  I  found  as  yet  no 
peculiarities  of  face  or  costume.  This  is  the  only  road 
from  Spain  into  the  republic,  and  is  very  rarely,  if  ever, 
traversed  by  a  foreign  tourist.  The  few  persons  who  have 
visted  Andorra,  made  their  way  into  the  valley  from  the 
side  of  France. 

As  I  rode  forward,  looking  out  from  time  to  time,  for 
some  mark  which  would  indicate  the  frontier,  I  recalled 
what  little  I  had  learned  of  the  origin  of  the  republic. 
There  is  not  much  which  the  most  patient  historian  could 
establish  as  positive  fact ;  but  the  traditions  of  the  people 
and  the  few  records  which  they  have  allowed  to  be  pub 
lished  run  nearly  parallel,  and  are  probably  as  exact  as 
most  of  the  history  of  the  ninth  century.  On  one  point 
all  the  accounts  agree  —  that  the  independence  of  the  val 
ley  sprang  indirectly  from  the  struggle  between  the  Franks 
and  Saracens.  When  the  latter  possessed  themselves  of  the 
Peninsula,  in  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  century,  a  rem 
nant  of  the  Visigoths  took  refuge  in  this  valley,  whence, 
later,  they  sent  to  Charlemagne,  imploring  assistance. 
After  Catalonia  had  been  reconquered,  the  Emperor  —  so 


264  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

runs  the  popular  tradition  —  gave  them  the  valley  as  a  re 
ward  for  their  bravery  in  battle.  The  more  probable  ac 
count  is,  that  Charlemagne  sent  his  son,  Louis  le  Debon- 
naire,  who  followed  the  last  remnants  of  the  Saracen  army 
up  the  gorge  of  the  Valira,  and  defeated  them  on  the  spot 
where  the  town  of  Andorra  now  stands.  After  the  victory, 
he  gave  the  valley  to  certain  of  his  soldiers,  releasing  them 
from  all  allegiance  except  to  himself.  This  was  in  the 
year  805.  AVhat  is  called  the  "  Charter  of  Charlemagne," 
by  some  of  the  French  writers,  is  evidently  this  grant  of 
his  son. 

Within  the  following  century,  however,  certain  difficulties 
arose,  which  disturbed  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  state  less 
than  their  powerful  neighbors.  Charlemagne  had  pre 
viously  given,  it  appears,  the  tithes  of  all  the  region  to 
Possidonius,  Bishop  of  Urgel,  and  the  latter  insisted  on 
retaining  his  right.  Moreover,  Charles  the  Bald,  in  843, 
presented  to  Siegfrid,  Count  of  Urgel,  the  right  of  sove 
reignty  over  Andorra,  which  Louis  le  Debounaire  had  re 
served  for  himself  and  his  successors.  Thus  the  spiritual 
and  temporal  lords  of  Urgel  came  in  direct  conflict,  and 
the  question  remained  undecided  for  two  centuries ;  the 
Andorrans,  meanwhile,  quietly  attending  to  their  own  af 
fairs,  and  consolidating  the  simple  framework  of  their  gov 
ernment.  Finally,  at  the  consecration  of  the  Cathedral  of 
Urgel,  in  the  year  1040,  the  widowed  Countess  Constance 
publicly  placed  the  sovereignty  claimed  by  her  house  in  the 
hands  of  Bishop  Heribald.  (How  curious  it  seems  to  find 
the  name  of  Garibaldi  occurring  in  this  obscure  history  !) 
But  this  gift  of  Constance  was  not  respected  by  her  suc 
cessors,  and  the  trouble  broke  out  anew  in  the  following 
century.  We  have  but  a  meagre  chain  of  detached  inci 
dents,  yet  what  passion,  what  intrigue,  what  priestly  thirst 
of  power  and  jealous  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  nobles 
are  suggested,  as  we  follow  the  scanty  record !  The 
Bishop  of  Urgel  triumphs  to  this  day,  as  he  reads  the  in- 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  265 

scription  over  his  palace-door :  «  Princeps  soberan  del  Vails 
de  Andorra." 

At  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  Arnald,  Count  of 
Castelbo,  purchased  certain  privileges  in  the  valley  from 
Ermengol,  Count  of  Urgel.  The  sale  was  resisted  by  the 
bishop,  and  a  war  ensued,  in  which  the  latter  was  defeated. 
Raymond-Roger,  Count  of  Foix,  was  then  called  to  aid  the 
episcopal  cause  —  his  promised  reward  being  a  share  in 
the  sovereignty  of  Andorra,  the  territory  of  which  bordered 
his  own.  Notwithstanding  he  was  victorious,  having  taken 
and  sacked  the  city  of  Urgel,  he  seems  to  have  considered 
his  claim  to  the  reward  still  insecure.  In  the  year  1202 
he  married  his  son  and  successor,  Roger-Bernard  II.,  to 
the  daughter  and  only  child  of  the  Count  of  Castelbo. 
Thus  the  Bishop  of  Urgel  saw  the  assumption  of  sove 
reignty  which  he  had  resisted  transferred  to  the  powerful 
house  of  Foix.  It  is  stated,  however,  that,  in  all  the  wars 
which  followed,  both  parties  refrained  from  touching  the 
disputed  territory,  in  order  that  the  value  of  the  revenue 
expected  from  it  might  not  be  diminished.  The  Andor- 
rans  themselves,  though  certainly  not  unconcerned,  re 
mained  perfectly  passive.  The  fastnesses  of  the  Pyrenees 
on  all  sides  of  them  resounded  with  the  noise  of  war,  while 
they,  one  generation  after  another,  tended  their  flocks  and 
cultivated  their  fields. 

The  quarrel  (and  it  is  almost  the  end  of  all  history  re 
lating  to  Andorra)  came  to  a  close  in  the  year  1278. 
Roger-Bernard  III.  of  Foix,  before  the  gates  of  Urgel, 
which  must  soon  have  yielded  to  him,  accepted  the  pro 
posal  for  an  arbitration  —  Don  Pedro  of  Aragon  having 
offered  his  name  as  security  for  the  fulfillment  of  the  terms 
which  might  be  agreed  upon.  Two  priests  and  four  knights 
were  the  arbitrators ;  and  the  Pariatges  (Partitions)  which 
they  declared  on  the  7th  of  September  of  the  year  already 
mentioned  settled  the  question  of  the  sovereignty  of  An 
dorra  from  that  clay  to  this.  Its  principal  features  were 


266  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

that  a  slight  tribute  should  be  paid  by  the  people,  on  alter 
nate  years,  to  the  Counts  of  Foix  and  the  Bishops  of  Urgel ; 
and  that  certain  officials  of  the  Valley  should,  in  like  man 
ner,  be  named  alternately  by  the  two  parties.  In  all  other 
respects,  the  people  were  left  free.  The  neutrality  of  their 
territory,  which  had  been  so  marvelously  preserved  for 
four  centuries  and  a  half,  was  reaffirmed  ;  and  it  has  never 
since  been  violated.  During  the  wars  of  Napoleon,  a 
French  army  appeared  on  the  frontiers  of  the  republic 
with  the  intention  of  marching  through  it  into  Spain ;  but 
on  the  judges  and  consuls  representing  to  the  commanding 
general  the  sacred  neutrality  of  their  valley,  he  turned 
about  and  chose  another  route. 

The  house  of  Foix  became  merged  in  that  of  Beam,  and 
the  inheritance  of  the  latter,  in  turn,  passed  into  the  hands 
of  the  Bourbons.  Thus  the  crown  of  France  succeeded  to 
the  right  reserved  by  Louis  le  Debonnaire,  and  presented 
by  Charles  the  Bald  to  Siegfrid,  Count  of  Urgel.  The 
Andorrans,  who  look  upon  their  original  charter  as  did 
the  Hebrews  on  their  Ark  of  the  Covenant,  consider  that 
the  Pariatges  are  equally  sanctioned  by  time  and  the  favor 
of  God  ;  and,  so  far  from  feeling  that  the  tribute  is  a  sign 
of  subjection,  they  consider  that  it  really  secures  their  in 
dependence.  They  therefore  do  not  allow  the  revolutions, 
the  change  of  dynasties  which  France  has  undergone,  to 
change  their  relation  to  the  governing  power.  They  were 
filled  with  dismay,  when,  in  1793,  the  representative  of  the 
French  Republic  in  Foix  refused  to  accept  the  tribute,  on 
the  ground  that  it  was  a  relic  of  the  feudal  system.  For 
six  or  -seven  years  thereafter  they  feared  that  the  end  of 
things  was  at  hand  ;  but  the  establishment  of  the  Empire, 
paradoxical  as  it  may  appear,  secured  to  them  their  repub 
lic.  They  seem  never  to  have  considered  that  the  refusal 
of  the  French  authorities  gave  them  a  valid  pretext  to 
cease  the  further  payment  of  the  tribute. 

This  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  history  of  Andorra. 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  267 

No  one  can  help  feeling  that  a  wholly  exceptional  fortune 
has  followed  this  handful  of  people.  All  other  rights  given 
by  Charlemagne  and  his  successors  became  waste  paper 
long  since  :  the  Counts  of  Urgel,  the  houses  of  Foix  and 
Beam,  have  disappeared,  and  the  Bourbons  have  ceased  to 
reign  in  France,  —  yet  the  government  of  the  little  re 
public  preserves  the  same  forms  which  were  established  in 
the  ninth  century,  and  the  only  relations  \vhich  at  present 
connect  it  with  the  outer  world  date  from  the  year  1278. 
I  endeavored  to  impress  these  facts  upon  my  mind,  as  the 
gorge  opened  into  a  narrow  green  valley,  blocked  up  in 
front  by  the  Andorran  mountains.  I  recalled  that  pic 
turesque  legend  of  the  knight  of  the  Middle  Ages,  who, 
penetrating  into  some  remote  nook  of  the  Apennines,  found 
a  forgotten  Roman  city,  where  the  people  still  kept  their 
temples  and  laid  their  offerings  on  the  altars  of  the  gods. 
The  day  was  exquisitely  clear  and  sunny;  the  breezes  of 
the  Pyrenees  blew  away  every  speck  of  vapor  from  the 
mountains,  but  I  saw  everything  softly  through  that  veil 
which  the  imagination  weaves  for  us. 

Presently  we  came  upon  two  or  three  low  houses.  At 
the  door  of  the  furthest  two  Spanish  soldiers  were  standing, 
one  of  whom  stepped  forward  when  he  saw  me.  A  picture 
of  delay,  examination,  bribery,  rose  in  my  mind.  I  as 
sumed  a  condescending  politeness,  saluted  the  man  gravely, 
and  rode  forward.  To  my  great  surprise  no  summons  fol 
lowed.  I  kept  on  my  way  without  looking  back,  and  in 
two  minutes  was  out  of  Spain.  Few  travellers  have  ever 
left  the  kingdom  so  easily. 

The  features  of  the  scenery  remained  the  same  —  nar 
row,  slanting  shelves  of  grass  and  grain,  the  Valira  foam 
ing  below,  and  the  great  mountains  of  gray  rock  towering 
into  the  sky.  In  another  half-hour  I  saw  the  little  town 
of  San  Julian  de  Loria,  one  of  the  six  municipalities  of 
Andorra.  As  old  and  brown  as  Urgel,  or  the  villages 
along  the  Rio  Segre,  it  was  in  no  wise  to  be  distinguished 


268  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

from  them.  The  massive  stone  walls  of  the  houses  were 
nearly  black ;  the  roofs  of  huge  leaves  of  slate  were  cov 
ered  with  a  red  rust ;  and  there  were  no  signs  that  any 
thing  had  been  added  or  taken  away  from  the  place  for 
centuries.  As  my  horse  clattered  over  the  dirty  paving- 
stones,  mounting  the  one  narrow,  twisted  street,  the  people 
came  to  the  doors,  and  looked  upon  me  with  a  grave  curi 
osity.  I  imagined  at  once  that  they  were  different  from 
the  Catalans,  notwithstanding  they  spoke  the  same  dialect, 
and  wore  very  nearly  the  same  costume.  The  expression 
of  their  faces  was  more  open  and  fearless  ;  a  cheerful  gravity 
marked  their  demeanor.  I  saw  that  they  were  both  self- 
reliant  and  contented. 

While  Julian  stopped  to  greet  some  of  his  friends,  I  rode 
into  a  very  diminutive  plaza,  where  some  thirty  or  forty  of 
the  inhabitants  were  gossiping  together.  An  old  man, 
dressed  in  pale  blue  jacket  and  knee-breeches,  with  a  red 
scarf  around  his  waist,  advanced  to  meet  me,  lifting  his 
scarlet  cap  in  salutation. 

"  This  is  no  longer  Spain  ?  "  I  asked. 

" It  is  neither  France  nor  Spain,"  said  he ;  "it  is  An 
dorra." 

"  The  Republic  of  Andorra  ?  " 

"  They  call  it  so." 

"  I  am  also  a  citizen  of  a  republic,"  I  then  said  ;  but, 
although  his  interest  was  evidently  excited,  he  asked  me  no 
questions.  The  Andorran  reserve  is  proverbial  throughout 
Catalonia ;  and  as  I  had  already  heard  of  it,  I  voluntarily 
gave  as  much  information  respecting  myself  as  was  neces 
sary.  A  number  of  men,  young  and  old,  had  by  this  time 
collected,  and  listened  attentively.  Those  who  spoke  Span 
ish  mingled  in  the  conversation,  which,  on  my  part,  was 
purposely  guarded.  Some  degree  of  confidence,  however 
seemed  to  be  already  established.  They  told  me  that  they 
were  entirely  satisfied  with  their  form  of  government 
and  their  secluded  life ;  that  they  were  poor,  but  much 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  269 

wealth  would  be  of  no  service  to  them,  and,  moreover 
(which  was  true),  that  they  were  free  because  they  were 
poor.  When  Julian  appeared,  he  looked  with  surprise  upon 
the  friendly  circle  around  me,  but  said  nothing.  It  was  still 
two  hours  to  Andorra  la  Vella  (Old  Andorra),  the  capital, 
which  I  had  decided  to  make  my  first  resting-place;  so  I 
said,  "  Aclios ! "  —  all  the  men  responding,  "  Dios  guarda  ! " 

Beyond  the  village  I  entered  upon  green  meadow-land, 
shaded  by  grand  walnut-trees,  mounds  of  the  richest  fo 
liage.  The  torrent  of  Avina  came  down  through  a  wild 
glen  on  the  left,  to  join  the  Valira,  and  all  the  air  vibrated 
with  the  sound  of  waters  and  the  incessant  songs  of  the 
nightingales.  People  from  the  high,  unseen  mountain 
farms  and  pasture-grounds  met  me  on  their  way  to  San 
Julian  ;  and  their  greeting  was  always  "  God  guard  you  !  " 
—  hinting  of  the  days  when  travel  was  more  insecure  than 
now.  When  the  mountains  again  contracted,  and  the  path 
clung  to  the  sides  of  upright  mountain  walls,  Julian  went 
in  advance,  and  warned  the  coming  muleteers.  Vegetation 
ceased,  except  the  stubborn  clumps  of  box,  which  had  fas 
tened  themselves  in  every  crevice  of  the  precipices ;  and 
the  nightingales,  if  any  had  ventured  into  the  gloomy  gorge, 
were  silent.  For  an  hour  I  followed  its  windings,  steadily 
mounting  all  the  while ;  then  the  rocks  began  to  lean  away, 
the  smell  of  flowering  grass  came  back  to  the  air,  and  I 
saw,  by  the  breadth  of  blue  sky  opening  ahead,  that  we 
were  approaching  the  Valley  of  Andorra. 

The  first  thing  that  met  my  eyes  was  a  pretty  pastoral 
picture.  Some  rills  from  the  melting  snows  had  been  caught 
and  turned  into  an  irrigating  canal,  the  banks  of  which 
were  so  overgrown  with  brambles  and  wild-flowers  that  it 
had  become  a  natural  stream.  Under  a  gnarled,  wide- 
armed  ilex  sat  a  father,  with  his  two  youngest  children  ;  two 
older  ones  gathered  flowers  in  the  sun  ;  and  the  mother, 
with  a  basket  in  her  hand,  paused  to  look  at  me  in  the 
meadow  below.  The  little  ones  latched  and  shouted  ;  the 


270  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

father  watched  them  with  bright,  happy  eyes,  and  over  and 
around  them  the  birds  sang  without  fear.  And  this  is  the 
land  of  smugglers  and  robbers  !  I  thought.  Turning  in 
the  saddle,  I  watched  the  group  as  long  as  it  was  visible. 

When  I  set  my  face  forward  again,  it  was  with  a  sudden 
catch  of  the  breath  and  a  cry  of  delight.  The  promise  of 
the  morning  was  fulfilled  ;  beautiful  beyond  anticipation 
was  the  landscape  expanded  before  me.  It  was  a  valley 
six  miles  in  length,  completely  walled  in  by  immense  moun 
tains,  the  bases  of  which,  withdrawn  in  the  centre,  left  a 
level  bed  of  meadows,  nearly  a  mile  broad,  watered  by  the 
winding  Valira.  Terraces  of  grain,  golden  below,  but  still 
green  above,  climbed  far  up  the  slopes  ;  then  forest  and 
rock  succeeded  ;  and  finally  the  gray  pinnacles,  with  snow 
in  their  crevices,  stood  mantled  in  their  own  shadows. 
Near  the  centre  of  the  valley,  on  a  singular  rocky  knoll, 
the  old  houses  and  square  tower  of  Andorra  were  perched, 
as  if  watching  over  the  scene.  In  front,  where  the  river 
issued  from  a  tremendous  split  between  two  interlocking 
mountains,  I  could  barely  distinguish  the  houses  of  Escal- 
das  from  the  cliffs  to  which  they  clung.  Nothing  could  be 
simpler  and  grander  than  the  large  outlines  of  the  scene, 
nothing  lovelier  than  its  minuter  features,  —  so  wonderfully 
suggesting  both  the  garden  and  the  wilderness,  the  fresh 
green  of  the  North  and  the  hoary  hues  and  antique  forms 
of  the  South.  Brimming  with  sunshine  and  steeped  in 
delicious  odors,  the  valley  —  after  the  long,  dark  gorge  I 
had  threaded  —  seemed  to  flash  and  sparkle  with  a  light 
unknown  to  other  lands. 

Shall  I  ever  forget  the  last  three  miles  of  my  journey  ? 
Crystal  waters  rushed  and  murmured  beside  my  path  ; 
great  twisted  ilex-trees  sprang  from  the  masses  of  rock  ; 
mounds  of  snowy  eglantine  or  purple  clematis  crowned  the 
cliffs  or  hung  from  them  like  folded  curtains  ;  and  the  dark 
shadows  of  walnut  and  poplar  lay  upon  the  lush  fields  of 
grass  and  flowers.  The  nightingale  and  thrush  sang  on 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE    PYRENEES.  271 

the  earth,  and  the  lark  in  the  air  ;  and  even  the  melan 
choly  chant  of  the  young  farmer  in  his  fields  seemed  to  be 
only  that  soft  undercurrent  of  sadness  which  was  needed 
to  make  the  brightness  and  joy  of  the  landscape  complete. 

Climbing  the  rocks  to  the  capital,  I  was  pleasantly  sur 
prised  to  see  the  sign  "  Hostal "  before  I  had  made  more 
than  two  turns  of  the  winding  street.  The  English  guides, 
both  for  France  and  Spain,  advise  the  adventurous  tourist 
who  wishes  to  visit  Andorra  to  take  his  provender  with 
him,  since  nothing  can  be  had  in  the  valley.  A  friendly 
host  came  to  the  door,  and  welcomed  me.  Dinner,  he  said, 
would  be  ready  in  an  hour  and  a  half;  but  the  appearance 
of  the  cheerful  kitchen  into  which  I  was  ushered  so  pro 
voked  my  already  ravenous  hunger  that  an  omelette  was 
made  instantly,  and  Julian  and  I  shared  it  between  us. 
An  upper  room,  containing  a  coarse  but  clean  bed,  which 
barely  found  room  for  itself  in  a  wilderness  of  saddles  and 
harness,  was  given  to  me,  and  I  straightway  found  myself 
at  home  in  Andorra.  So  much  for  guide  books  ! 

I  went  forth  to  look  at  the  little  capital  before  dinner. 
Its  population  is  less  than  one  thousand  ;  the  houses  are 
built  of  rudely  broken  stones  of  schist  or  granite,  and 
roofed  with  large  sheets  of  slate.  The  streets  seem  to 
have  been  originally  located  where  the  surface  of  the  rock 
rendered  them  possible  ;  but  there  are  few  of  them,  and 
what  the  place  has  to  show  may  be  speedily  found.  I  felt 
at  once  the  simple,  friendly,  hospitable  character  of  the 
people  :  they  saluted  me  as  naturally  and  genially  as  if  I 
had  been  an  old  acquaintance.  Before  I  had  rambled 
many  minutes,  I  found  myself  before  the  Casa  del  Vails, 
the  House  of  Government.  It  is  an  ancient,  cracked  build 
ing,  but  when  erected  I  could  not  ascertain.  The  front  is 
simple  and  massive,  with  three  irregular  windows,  and  a 
large  arched  entrance.  A  tower  at  one  corner  threatens 
to  fall  from  want  of  repair.  Over  the  door  is  the  inscrip 
tion  :  "  Domus  consilii,  sedes  justitiae."  There  is  also  a 


272  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


marble  shield,  containing  the  arms  of  the  Republic,  and 
apparently  inserted  at  a  more  recent  date.  The  shield  is 
quartered  with  the  mitre  and  crosier  of  the  Bishop  of  Ur- 
gel,  the  four  crimson  bars  of  Catalonia,  the  three  bars  on 
an  azure  field  of  Foix,  and  the  cows  of  Beam.  Under  the 
shield  is  sculptured  the  Latin  verse  :  — 

"  Suspice  :  sunt  vallis  neutrius  stemmata  ;  sunt  qtie 

Regna,  quibu's  gaudent  nobiliora  tegi  : 

Singula  si  populos  alios,  Andorra,  beabunt, 

Quidni  juncta  ferent  aurca  secla  tibi  !  " 

I  suspect,  although  I  have  no  authority  for  saying  so,  that 
this  verse  comes  from  Fiter,  the  only  scholar  Andorra  ever 
produced,  who  flourished  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  cen 
tury.  The  ground-floor  of  the  building  consists  of  stables, 
where  the  members  of  the  council  lodge  their  horses  when 
they  meet  officially.  A  tumbling  staircase  leads  to  the 
second  story,  which  is  the  council-hall,  containing  a  table 
and  three  chairs  on  a  raised  platform,  a  picture  of  Christ 
between  the  windows,  and  oaken  benches  around  the  walls. 
The  great  object  of  interest,  however,  is  a  massive  chest, 
built  into  the  wall,  and  closed  with  six  strong  iron  locks, 
connected  by  a  chain.  This  contains  the  archives  of  An 
dorra,  including,  as  the  people  devoutly  believe,  the  origi 
nal  charters  of  Charlemagne  and  Louis  le  Debonnaire. 
Each  consul  of  the  six  parishes  is  intrusted  with  the  keep 
ing  of  one  key,  and  the  chest  can  only  be  opened  when  all 
six  are  present.  It  would  be  quite  impossible  for  a  stran 
ger  to  get  a  sight  of  the  contents.  The  archives  are  said 
to  be  written  on  sheets  of  lead,  on  palm-leaves,  on  parch 
ment,  or  on  paper,  according  to  the  age  from  which  they 
date.  The  chest  also  contains  the  "  Politar,"  or  Annals 
of  Andorra,  with  a  digest  of  the  laws,  compiled  by  the 
scholar  Fiter.  The  government  did  not  allow  the  work  to 
be  published,  but  there  is  another  manuscript  copy  in  the 
possession  of  the  Bishop  of  Urgel. 

I  climbed  the  huge  mass  of  rock  behind  the  building, 


THE    REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  273 

and  sat  down  upon  its  crest  to  enjoy  the  grand,  sunny  pic 
ture  of  the  valley.  The  mingled  beauty  and  majesty  of 
the  landscape  charmed  me  into  a  day-dream,  in  which  the 
old,  ever-recurring  question  was  lazily  pondered,  whether 
or  not  this  plain,  secluded,  ignorant  life  was  the  happiest 
lot  of  man.  But  the  influences  of  the  place  were  too  sweet 
and  soothing  for  earnest  thought,  and  a  clock  striking  noon 
recalled  me  to  the  fact  that  a  meal  was  ready  in  the  hostal. 
The  host  sat  down  to  the  table  with  Julian  and  myself,  and 
the  spout  of  the  big-bellied  Catalonian  bottle  overhung  our 
mouths  in  succession.  We  had  a  rough  but  satisfactory 
dinner,  during  which  I  told  the  host  who  I  was  and  why  I 
came,  thereby  winning  his  confidence  to  such  an  extent 
that  he  presently  brought  me  an  old,  dirty  Spanish  pam 
phlet,  saying,  "  You  may  read  this." 

Seeing  that  it  was  a  brief  and  curious  account  of  An 
dorra,  I  asked,  "  Cannot  I  buy  this  or  another  copy  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  answered  ;  u  it  is  not  to  be  bought.  You  can 
read  it ;  but  you  must  give  it  to  me  again." 

I  selected  a  dark  corner  of  the  kitchen,  lit  my  cigar? 
and  read,  making  rapid  notes  when  I  was  not  observed. 
The  author  was  a  nephew  of  one  of  the  bishops  of  Urgel, 
and  professed  to  have  seen  with  his  own  eyes  the  charter 
of  Louis  le  Debonnaire.  That  king,  he  stated,  defeated 
the  Saracens  on  the  plain  towards  Escaldas,  where  the 
western  branch  of  the  Valira  comes  down  from  the  Valley 
of  Ordino.  Before  the  battle,  a  passage  from  the  Book  of 
Kings  came  into  his  mind :  "  Endor,  over  against  Mount 
Tabor,  where  the  children  of  Israel,  preparing  for  war 
against  the  heathen,  pitched  their  camp " ;  and  after  the 
victory  he  gave  the  valley  the  name  of  Endor,  whence  An 
dorra.  The  resemblance,  the  author  innocently  remarks, 
is  indeed  wonderful.  In  both  places  there  are  high  moun 
tains  ;  the  same  kinds  of  trees  grow  (!)  ;  a  river  flows 
through  each ;  there  are  lions  and  leopards  in  Endor,  and 
bears  and  wolves  in  Andorra !  He  then  gives  the  following 

18 


£74  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

quotation  from  the  charter,  which  was  written  in  Latin ; 
k*  The  men  who  actually  live  in  this  country  are  Licindo, 
Laurentio,  Obaronio,  Antimirio,  Guirinio,  Suessonio,  Bar- 
rulio,  rustic  laborers,  and  many  others."  Louis  le  Dobon- 
naire  returned  to  France  by  the  present  Porte  de  Fontar- 
geute,  where,  on  the  summit  of  the  Pyrenees,  he  caused 
a  chain  to  be  stretched  from  rock  to  rock.  The  holes 
drilled  for  the  staples  of  the  rings  are  still  to  be  seen,  the 
people  say. 

When  I  had  finished  the  book,  I  went  out  again,  ami 
in  the  shade  of  a  willow  in  the  meadow  below,  made  a 
rough  sketch  of  the  town  and  the  lofty  Mont  Anclar  (nwns 
clavus)  behind  it  As  I  returned,  the  lower  part  of  the 
valley  offered  such  lovely  breadths  of  light  and  shade  that 
I  sought  a  place  among  the  tangle  of  houses  and  rocks  to 
make  a  second  drawing.  The  women,  with  their  children 
around  them,  sat  at  their  doors,  knitting  and  chatting.  One 
cried  out  to  another,  as  I  took  my  seat  on  the  ground, 
'•TVhy  don't  you  bring  a  chair  for  the  cavalier?"  The 
chair  was  brought  immediately,  and  the  children  gathered 
around,  watching  my  movements.  The  mothers  kept 
them  in  good  order,  every  now  and  then  crying  out.  '•  Don't 
go  too  near,  and  don't  stand  in  front ! "  Among  themselves 
they  talked  freely  about  me ;  but,  as  they  asked  no  ques 
tions,  I  finally  said,  "  I  understand  you ;  if  you  will  ask,  I 
will  answer,"  —  whereupon  they  laughed  and  were  silent. 

I  have  already  said  that  reserve  is  a  marked  character 
istic  of  the  Andorrans.  No  doubt  it  sprang  originally 
from  their  consciousness  of  their  weakness,  and  their  fear 
to  lose  their  inherited  privileges  by  betraying  too  much 
about  themselves.  \VTien  one  of  them  is  questioned  upon 
a  point  concerning  which  he  thinks  it  best  to  be  silent,  he 
assumes  a  stupid  expression  of  face,  and  appears  not  to 
understand.  That  afternoon  a  man  came  to  me  in  the  inn. 
produced  a  rich  specimen  of  galena,  and  said,  "  Do  you 
know  what  that  is  ?  "  *•  Certainly,"  I  answered ;  u  it  is  the 


THL    UIII'UKLIC    Or    THK    J'V  .  27-r, 

ore  of  lead.  Where  did  you  get  it  ? "  He  put  it  in  his 
pocket,  looked  up  at  the  sky,  and  said,  "  What  fine  weather 
we  have!"  J*.  i  known  that  there  is  much  lead  in  the 
mountains,  yet  the  mines  have  never  been  worked.  Hie 
people  say,  "  We  must  keep  poor,  as  our  fathers  have  been. 
If  we  become  rich,  the  French  will  want  our  lead  and  the 
Spaniards  our  silver,  and  then  one  or  the  other  will  rob  us 
of  our  independence.** 

So  well  is  this  peculiarity  of  the  inhabitants  understood, 
that  in  Catalonia  to  assume  ignorance  is  called  "to  play 
the  Andorran."  A  student  from  the  frontier,  on  entering 
a  Spanish  theological  seminary,  was  called  upon  to  trans 
late  the  New  Testament  When  he  came  to  the  words, 
u  Jesus  autem  tacebat,"  be  rendered  them,  in  perfect  good 
faith,  "  Jesus  played  the  Andorran."  For  the  same  reason, 
the  hospitality  of  the  people  is  of  a  passive  rather  than  of 
an  active  character.  The  stranger  may  enter  any  bouse  in 
the  valley,  take  his  seat  at  the  family  board,  and  sleep 
under  the  shelter  of  the  roof;  he  is  free  to  come  and  go; 
no  questions  are  asked,  although  voluntary  information  is 
always  gladly  received.  They  would  be  scarcely  human  if 
it  were  not  so. 

The  principal  features  of  the  system  of  government 
which  these  people  have  adopted  may  be  easily  described. 
They  have  no  written  code  of  laws,  the  Politar  being  only 
a  collection  of  precedents  in  certain  cases,  accessible  to  the 
consuls  and  judges,  and  to  them  alone.  When  we  come  to 
examine  the  modes  in  which  they  are  governed. —  proce 
dures  which,  based  on  long  custom,  have  all  the  force  of 
law,  —  we  find  a  singular  mixture  of  the  elements  of  de 
mocracy,  aristocracy,  and  monarchy.  The  sovereignty  of 
France  and  the  Bishop  of  Urgel  is  acknowledged  in  the 
appointment  of  the  two  riyuiers  (vicarii),  who,  it  is  true, 
are  natives  of  the  valley,  and  devoted  to  its  interests.  In 
all  other  respects  the  forms  are  democratic ;  but  the  cir 
cumstance  that  the  officials  are  unpaid,  that  they  must  be 


276  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

married,  and  that  they  must  be  members  of  families  in 
good  repute,  has  gradually  concentrated  the  government  in 
the  hands  of  a  small  number  of  families,  by  whom  it  is 
virtually  inherited.  Moreover,  the  law  of  primogeniture 
prevails  to  the  fullest  extent,  still  further  lessening  the 
number  of  qualified  persons. 

The  Republic  consists  of  six  communes,  or  parishes,  each 
of  which  elects  two  consuls  and  two  councillors,  whose 
term  of  service  is  four  years;  one  official  of  each  class 
being  elected  every  two  years.  There  is  no  restriction  of 
the  right  of  suffrage.  The  twenty-four  officials  form  the 
deliberative  body,  or  Grand  Council,  who  alone  have  the 
power  of  electing  the  Syndic,  the  executive  head  of  the 
government.  He  is  chosen  for  life  ;  he  presides  over  the 
Council,  and  carries  its  decisions  into  effect,  yet  is  respon 
sible  to  it  for  his  actions.  Only  half  the  Council  being 
chosen  at  one  time,  the  disadvantage  of  having  an  entirely 
new  set  of  men  suddenly  placed  in  office  is  obviated.  The 
arrangement,  in  fact,  is  the  same  which  we  have  adopted  in 
regard  to  the  election  of  United  States  Senators. 

o 

The  consuls,  in  addition,  have  their  municipal  duties. 
Each  one  names  ten  petty  magistrates,  called  decurions, 
whose  functions  are  not  much  more  important  than  those 
of  our  constables.  They  simply  preserve  order,  and  assist 
in  bringing  offenses  to  light.  All  the  persons  of  property, 
or  who  exercise  some  useful  mechanical  art,  form  what  is 
called  the  Parish  Council,  whose  business  it  is  to  raise  the 
proportionate  share  of  the  tribute,  to  apportion  the  pastures, 
fix  the  amount  of  wood  to  be  sold  (part  of  the  revenue  of 
Andorra  being  derived  from  the  forests),  and  to  regulate 
;  11  ordinary  local  matters.  These  councils,  of  course,  are 
self-existing ;  every  person  who  is  not  poor  and  insignifi 
cant  taking  his  place  naturally  in  them.  No  one  can  be 
chosen  as  consul  who  is  under  thirty  years  of  age,  who  has 
not  been  married,  who  is  blind,  deaf,  deformed,  or  epileptic, 
who  is  addicted  to  drink,  or  who  has  committed  any  offense 
against  the  laws. 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  277 

The  functions  of  the  parish  councils  and  the  Grand 
Council  of  the  Republic  are  carefully  separated.  The 
former  have  charge  of  inns,  forges,  bakeries,  weaving,  and 
the  building  of  dwelling-houses  ;  the  latter  has  control 
of  the  forests,  the  ways  of  communication,  the  chase,  the 
fisheries,  the  finances,  and  the  building  of  all  edifices  of  a 
public  character.  It  has  five  sessions  a  year.  Its  mem 
bers  are  not  paid,  but  they  are  lodged  and  fed,  during  these 
sessions,  at  the  public  expense.  Each  parish  owns  two 
double-beds  in  the  upper  story  of  the  Casa  del  Vails  at 
Andorra ;  in  each  bed  sleep  two  consuls  or  two  councillors. 
There  is  a  kitchen,  with  an  enormous  pot,  in  which  their 
frugal  meals  are  cooked,  and  a  dining-room  in  which  they 
are  served.  Formerly  their  sessions  were  held  in  the 
church-yard,  among  the  tombs,  as  if  to  render  them  more 
solemnly  impressive ;  but  this  practice  has  long  been  dis 
continued. 

The  expenses  of  the  state,  one  will  readily  guess,  must  be 
very  slight.  The  tribute  paid  to  France  is  nineteen  hun 
dred  and  twenty  francs ;  that  to  the  Bishop  of  Urgel,  eight 
hundred  and  forty-two  francs  —  an  average  of  two  hundred 
and  seventy-five  dollars  per  annum.  The  direct  tax  is  five 
cents  annually  for  each  person  ;  but  a  moderate  revenue  is 
derived  from  the  sale  of  wood  and  charcoal,  and  the  rent 
of  pastures  on  the  northern  slope  of  the  Pyrenees.  Im 
port,  export,  and  excise  duties,  licenses,  and  stamps  are 
unknown,  although,  in  civil  cases,  certain  moderate  fees  are 
established.  The  right  of  tithes,  given  by  Charlemagne  to 
Possidonius,  remains  in  force ;  but  they  are  generally  paid 
in  kind  ;  and  in  return  the  Bishop  of  Urgel,  who  appoints 
the  priests,  contributes  to  their  support.  The  vicars,  of 
whom  there  is  one  to  each  parish,  are  paid  by  the  govern 
ment.  The  inhabitants  are,  without  exception,  devout  Cath 
olics,  yet  it  is  probably  ancient  custom,  rather  than  the 
influence  of  the  priests,  which  makes  them  indifferent  to 
education.  The  schools  are  so  few  that  they  hardly  de- 


278  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

serve  to  be  mentioned.  Only  one  man  in  a  hundred,  and 
one  woman  in  five  hundred,  can  read  and  write. 

The  two  viguiers,  one  of  whom  is  named  by  France  and 
the  other  by  the  Bishop  of  Urgel,  exercise  the  functions  of 
judges.  They  are  the  representatives  of  the  two  sovereign 
powers,  and  their  office  is  therefore  surrounded  with  every 
mark  of  respect.  Although  nominally  of  equal  authority, 
their  activity  is  in  reality  very  unequally  divided.  Usually 
some  prominent  official  of  the  Department  de  1'Ariege  is 
named  on  the  part  of  France,  and  contents  himself  with  an 
annual  visit  to  the  valley.  The  Bishop,  on  the  other  hand, 
always  names  a  native  Andorran,  who  resides  among  the 
people,  and  performs  the  duties  of  both  viguiers.  When  a 
new  viguier  is  appointed,  he  must  be  solemnly  installed  at 
the  capital.  The  members  of  the  Grand  Council  then  ap 
pear  in  their  official  costume  —  a  long  surtout  of  black 
cloth,  with  crimson  facings,  a  red  shawl  around  the  waist, 
gray  knee-breeches,  sky-blue  stockings,  and  shoes  with 
silver  buckles.  The  Syndic  of  the  Republic  wears  a  crim 
son  mantle ;  but  the  viguier  is  dressed  in  black,  with  a 
sword,  cocked  hat,  and  gold-headed  staff.  As  the  tribute 
paid  to  France  is  much  larger  than  that  paid  to  the  Bishop, 
the  people  have  voluntarily  added  to  the  latter  a  Christmas 
offering  of  the  twelve  best  hams,  the  twelve  richest  cheeses, 
and  the  twelve  fattest  capons  to  be  found  in  the  six  par 
ishes. 

The  sovereign  powers  have  two  other  representatives  in 
addition  to  the  viguiers.  These  are  the  batlles  (bailes, 
bailiffs  ?)  who  are  chosen  from  a  list  of  six  persons  selected 
by  the  Grand  Council.  Their  principal  duty  is  to  hear 
and  decide,  in  the  first  instance,  all  civil  and  criminal  cases, 
except  those  which  the  government  specially  reserves  for 
its  own  judgment.  The  batlles,  however,  are  called  upou 
to  prevent,  rather  than  solve  litigation.  When  a  case  oc 
curs,  they  first  endeavor  to  reconcile  the  parties,  or  substi 
tute  a. private  arbitration.  If  that  fails,  the  case  is  con- 


THE   REPUBLIC    OF   THE   PYRENEES.  279 

sidered ;  and,  after  the  help  of  God  is  solemnly  invoked, 
judgment  is  pronounced.  Where  the  dispute  involves  a 
delicate  or  doubtful  point,  the  batlle  consults  separately 
the  three  men  of  best  character  and  most  familiar  with  the 
laws  who  are  to  be  found  in  the  parish,  and  decides  as  the 
judgment  of  two  of  them  may  coincide.  It  rarely  happens 
that  any  serious  lawsuit  occurs,  or  that  any  capital  crime  is 
committed.  The  morals  of  the  people  are  guarded  with 
equal  care ;  any  slip  from  chastity  is  quietly  looked  after 
by  the  priests  and  officials,  and  the  parties,  if  possible, 
legally  united. 

The  more  important  cases,  or  appeals  from  the  decision 
of  the  batlles,  come  before  the  Supreme  Tribunal  of  Jus 
tice,  which  is  composed  of  the  two  viguiers,  a  judge  of  ap 
peal  (chosen  to  give  the  casting  vote  when  there  is  a  dif 
ference  of  opinion  between  the  viguiers),  a  government 
prosecutor,  and  two  rahonadors  (pleaders)  chosen  for  the 
defense  by  the  Grand  Council.  This  tribunal  has  the 
power  to  pronounce  a  capital  sentence,  which  is  then  car 
ried  out  by  an  executioner  brought  either  from  France  or 
Spain. 

The  army,  if  it  may  be  called  such,  consists  of  six  hun 
dred  men,  or  one  from  each  family.  They  are  divided  into 
six  companies,  according  to  the  parishes,  with  a  captain  for 
each ;  the  decurions  acting  as  subaltern  officers.  The  only 
special  duty  imposed  upon  them,  beyond  the  occasional 
escort  and  guard  of  prisoners,  is  an  annual  review  by  the 
viguiers  and  the  Grand  Council,  which  takes  place  on  the 
meadow  below  Andorra.  The  officials  are  seated  in  state 
around  a  large  table,  upon  which  a  muster-roll  of  the  army 
is  laid.  When  the  first  name  is  read,  the  soldier  to  whom 
it  belongs  steps  forward,  discharges  his  musket  in  the  air, 
then  advances  to  the  table  and  exhibits  his  ammunition, 
which  must  consist  of  a  pound  of  powder,  twenty-four  balls, 
and  as  many  caps.  Each  man  is  called  in  turn,  until  the 
whole  six  hundred  have  been  thus  reviewed. 


280  BY-WAYS   OF   EUKOPE. 


Such  is  an  outline  of  the  mode  of  government  and  the 
forms  of  judicial  procedure  in  this  little  republic.  I  have 
not  thought  it  necessary  to  add  the  more  minute  details 
which  grow  naturally  out  of  the  peculiarities  already  de 
scribed.  Two  things  will  strike  the  reader :  first,  the  suffi 
ciency  of  the  system,  quaint  and  singular  as  it  may  be  in 
some  respects,  to  the  needs  of  the  people ;  secondly,  the 
skill  with  which  they  have  reconciled  the  conditions  im 
posed  upon  them  by  the  Pariatges,  in  1278,  with  the  struc 
ture  of  government  they  had  already  erected.  For  a  people 
so  ignorant,  so  remote  from  the  movement  of  the  world, 
and  so  precariously  situated,  their  course  has  been  directed 
by  a  rare  wisdom.  No  people  value  independence  more  ; 
they  have  held  it,  with  fear  and  trembling,  as  a  precious 
gift ;  and  for  a  thousand  years  they  have  taken  no  single 
step  which  did  not  tend  to  secure  them  in  its  possession. 

According  to  the  host's  volume,  the  population  of  the 
towns  is  as  follows  :  Andorra,  850  inhabitants  ;  San  Julian 
de  Loria,  620  ;  Encamp,  520  ;  Canillo,  630  ;  Ordino,  750  ; 
and  Massana,  700.  The  population  of  the  smaller  hamlets, 
and  the  scattered  houses  of  the  farmers  and  herdsmen,  will 
probably  amount  to  about  as  many  more,  which  would  give 
eight  thousand  persons  as  the  entire  population  of  the  state. 
I  believe  this  estimate"  to  be  very  nearly  correct.  It  is  a 
singular  circumstance,  that  the  number  has  not  materially 
changed  for  centuries.  Emigration  from  the  valley  has 
been  rare  until  recent  times ;  the  climate  is  healthy ;  the 
people  an  active,  vigorous  race ;  and  there  must  be  some 
unusual  cause  for  this  lack  of  increase.  A  young  man.  a 
native  of  the  parish  of  Ordino,  with  whom  I  had  a  long 
conversation  in  the  evening,  gave  me  some  information 
upon  this  point.  The  life  of  families  in  Andorra  is  still 
regulated  on  the  old  patriarchal  plan.  The  landed  prop 
erty  descends  to  the  oldest  son  or  daughter,  or,  in  default 
of  direct  issue,  to  the  nearest  relative.  This,  indeed,  is  not 
the  law,  which  gives  only  a  third  to  the  chief  inheritor,  and 


THE   REPUBLIC    OF   THE   PYRENEES.  281 

divides  the  remainder  equally  among  the  other  members 
of  the  family.  But  it  has  become  a  custom  stronger  than 
law  —  a  custom  which  is  now  never  violated  — to  preserve 
the  old  possessions  intact.  The  caps,  or  heads  of  families, 
are  held  in  such  high  estimation,  that  all  other  family  and 
even  personal  rights  are  subordinate  to  theirs.  They  are 
rich  and  respected,  while  the  younger  brothers  and  sisters, 
who,  by  this  arrangement,  may  be  left  too  poor  to  marry, 
cheerfully  accept  a  life  of  celibacy.  "  I  am  a  younger  son," 
said  my  informant ;  "  but  I  have  been  able  to  marry,  be 
cause  I  went  down  into  Catalonia,  entered  into  business, 
and  made  some  money."  When  a  daughter  inherits,  she 
is  required  to  marry  the  nearest  relative  permitted  by 
canonical  law,  who  takes  her  family  name  and  perpetuates 
it. 

In  the  course  of  centuries,  however,  the  principal  fami 
lies  have  become  so  inter-related  that  their  interests  fre 
quently  require  marriages  within  the  prohibited  degrees. 
In  this  case  the  Andorran  undertakes  a  journey  to  Rome, 
to  procure  a  special  dispensation  from  the  Pope.  He  is 
generally  the  representative  of  other  parties,  similarly  sit 
uated,  who  assist  in  defraying  the  expenses  of  the  journey. 
After  a  collective  dispensation*  has  been  issued,  all  the 
marriages  must  be  celebrated  by  proxy  —  the  Andorran 
and  a  Roman  woman  who  is  paid  for  the  service  represent 
ing,  in  turn,  each  bridal  pair  at  home.  The  latter  must 
afterwards  perform  public  penance  in  church,  kneeling 
apart  from  the  other  worshippers,  with  lighted  tapers  in 
their  hands  and  ashes  upon  their  heads. 

Owing  to  the  strictness  of  these  domestic  laws,  the  re 
markable  habit  of  self-control  among  the  people,  and  the 
careful  guard  over  their  morals  exercised  by  the  officials, 
they  have  become  naturally  virtuous,  and  hence  great  free 
dom  of  social  intercourse  is  permitted  among  the  sexes. 
Their  sports  and  pleasures  are  characterized  by  a  pastoral 
simplicity  and  temperance.  Excesses  are  very  rare  because 


282  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

all  ages  and  classes  of  both  sexes  meet  together,  and  the 
presence  of  the  priests  and  caps  grosses  (chief  men)  acts 
as  a  check  upon  the  young  men.  At  the  festival  of  some 
patron  saint  of  the  valley,  mass  in  the  chapel  is  followed 
by  a  festive  meal  in  the  open  air,  after  which  the  priest 
himself  gives  the  signal  for  the  dances  to  commence.  The 
lacls  and  lasses  then  assemble  on  a  smooth  piece  of  turf, 
where  the  sounds  of  bagpipe  and  tambourine  set  their  feet 
in  motion.  The  old  people  are  not  always  gossiping  spec 
tators,  speculating  on  the  couples  that  move  before  them 
in  the  rude,  wild  dances  of  the  mountains  ;  they  often  enter 
the  lists,  and  hold  their  ground  with  the  youngest. 

Thus,  in  spite  of  acquired  reserve  and  predetermined 
poverty,  the  life  of  the  Andorrans  has  its  poetical  side. 
The  republic  has  produced  one  historian  (perhaps  I  should 
say  compiler),  but  no  author ;  and  only  Love,  the  source 
and  soul  of  Art,  keeps  alive  a  habit  of  improvisation  in  the 
young  which  they  appear  to  lose  as  they  grow  older.  Dur 
ing  Carnival,  a  number  of  young  men  in  the  villages  as 
semble  under  the  balcony  of  some  chosen  girl,  and  praise, 
in  turn,  in  words  improvised  to  a  familiar  melody,  her 
charms  of  person  and  of  character.  When  this  trial  of  the 
Minnesingers  begins  to  lag  for  want  of  words  or  ideas,  the 
girl  makes  her  appearance  on  the  balcony,  and  with  a  cord 
lets  down  to  her  admirers  a  basket  containing  cakes  of 
her  own  baking,  bottles  of  wine,  and  sausages.  Before 
Easter,  the  unmarried  people  make  bets,  which  are  won  by 
whoever,  on  Easter  morning,  can  first  catch  the  other  and 
cry  out,  "  It  is  Kaster,  the  eggs  are  mine  !  "  Tricks,  false 
hoods,  and  deceptions  of  all  kinds  are  permitted  :  the  young 
man  may  even  surprise  the  maiden  in  bed,  if  he  can  suc 
ceed  in  doing  so.  Afterwards  they  all  assemble  in  public, 
relate  their  tricks,  eat  their  Easter  eggs,  and  finish  the  day 
with  songs  and  dances. 

Two  ruling  ideas  have  governed  the  Andorrans  for  cen 
turies  past,  and  seem  to  have  existed  independent  of  any 


THE   REPUBLIC   OF   THE   PYRENEES.  283 

special  tradition.  One  is,  that  they  must  not  become  rich  ; 
the  other,  that  no  feature  of  their  government  must  be 
changed.  The  former  condition  is  certainly  the  more  diffi 
cult  of  fulfillment,  since  they  have  had  frequent  opportu 
nities  of  increasing  their  wealth.  There  is  one  family  which, 
on  account  of  the  land  that  has  fallen  to  it  by  inheritance, 
would  be  considered  rich  in  any  country;  half  a  dozen 
others  possessing  from  twenty  to  thirty  thousand  dollars ; 
and  a  large  number  who  are  in  comfortable  circumstances 
simply  because  their  needs  are  so  few.  I  had  heard  that  a 
party  opposed  to  the  old  traditional  ideas  was  growing  up 
among  the  young  men,  but  it  was  not  so  easy  to  obtain 
information  on  the  subject.  When  I  asked  the  gentleman 
from  Ordino  about  it,  he  "  acted  the  Andorran,"  —  put  on 
an  expression  office  almost  idiotic,  and  talked  of  something 
else.  He  and  two  others  with  whom  I  conversed  during  the 
evening  admitted,  however,  that  a  recent  concession  of  the 
government  (of  which  I  shall  presently  speak)  was  the 
entering  wedge  by  which  change  would  probably  come 
upon  the  hitherto  changeless  republic. 

With  the  exception  of  this  incommunicativeness,  —  in 
itself  rather  an  interesting  feature  —  no  people  could  have 
been  more  kind  and  friendly.  When  I  went  to  bed  among 
the  saddles  and  harness  in  the  little  room,  I  no  longer  felt 
that  I  was  a  stranger  in  the  place.  All  that  I  had  heard  of 
the  hospitality  of  the  people  seemed  to  be  verified  by  their 
demeanor.  I  remembered  how  faithfully  they  had  asserted 
the  neutrality  of  their  territory  in  behalf  of  political  exiles 
from  France  and  Spain.  General  Cabrera,  Armand  Carrel, 
and  Ferdinand  Flocon  have  at  different  times  found  a  ref 
uge  among  them.  Although  the  government  reserves  the 
right  to  prohibit  residence  to  any  person  whose  presence 
may  threaten  the  peace  of  the  valley,  I  have  not  heard  that 
the  right  was  ever  exercised.  Andorra  has  been  an  ark  of 

o 

safety  to  strangers,  as  well  as  an  inviolate  home  of  freedom 
to  its  own  inhabitants. 


284  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

Julian  called  me  at  four  o'clock,  to  resume  our  journey 
up  the  valley,  and  the  host  made  a  cup  of  chocolate  while 
my  horse  was  being  saddled.  Then  I  rode  forth  into  the 
clear,  cold  air,  which  the  sun  of  the  Pyrenees  had  not  yet 
warmed.  The  town  is  between  three  and  four  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  limit  of  the  olive  tree  is  found 
in  one  of  its  sheltered  gardens.  As  I  issued  from  the 
houses,  and  took  a  rugged  path  along  the  base  of  Mont 
Anclar,  the  village  of  Escaldas  and  the  great  gorge  in  front 
lay  in  a  cold,  broad  mantle  of  shadow,  while  the  valley  was 
filled  to  its  topmost  brims  with  splendid  sunshine.  I  looked 
between  the  stems  of  giant  ilexes  upon  the  battle-field  of 
Louis  le  Debonnaire.  Then  came  a  yawning  chasm,  down 
which  foamed  the  western  branch  of  the  Valira,  coming 
from  an  upper  valley  in  which  lie  the  parishes  of  Ordino 
and  Massana.  The  two  valleys  thus  form  a  Y,  giving  the 
territory  of  Andorra  a  rough  triangular  shape,  about  forty 
miles  in  length  —  its  base,  some  thirty  miles  in  breadth, 
overlapping  the  Pyrenees,  and  its  point  nearly  touching  the 
Rio  Segre,  at  Urgel. 

A  bridge  of  a  single  arch  spanned  the  chasm,  the  bottom 
of  which  was  filled  with  tumbling  foam ;  while  every  ledge 
of  rock,  above  and  below,  was  draped  with  eglantine,  wild 
fig,  clematis,  and  ivy.  Thence,  onward  towards  Escaldas? 
my  path  lay  between  huge  masses  which  had  fallen  from 
the  steeps,  and  bowers  completely  snowed  over  with  white 
roses,  wherein  the  nightingales  were  just  beginning  to 
awaken.  Then,  one  by  one,  the  brown  houses  above  me 
clung  like  nests  to  the  rocks,  with  little  gardens  hanging  on 
seemingly  inaccessible  shelves.  I  entered  the  enfolding 
shadows,  and,  following  the  roar  of  waters,  soon  found  my 
self  at  Escaldas  —  a  place  as  wonderfully  picturesque  as 
Ronda  or  Tivoli,  directly  under  the  tremendous  perpen 
dicular  walls  of  the  gorge  ;  the  arrowy  Valira  sweeping  the 
foundations  of  the  houses  on  one  side,  while  the  dark 
masses  of  rock  crowded  against  and  separated  them  on  the 


THE   REPUBLIC    OF   THE   PYRENEES.  285 

other.  From  the  edge  of  the  river,  and  between  the  thick 
foliage  of  ilex  and  box  behind  the  houses,  rose  thin  columns 
of  steam,  marking  the  hot  springs  whence  the  place  (ayua» 
caldas)  was  named. 

Crossing  the  river.  I  halted  at  the  first  of  these  springs, 
and  took  a  drink.  Some  old  people  who  collected  informed 
me  that  there  were  ten  in  all,  besides  a  number  of  cold 
mineral  fountains,  furnishing  nine  different  kinds  of  water 
—  all  of  which,  they  said,  possessed  wonderful  healing  prop 
erties.  There  were  both  iron  and  sulphur  in  that  which  I 
tasted.  A  little  further,  a  rude  fulling-mill  was  at  work  in 
the  open  air ;  and  in  a  forge  on  the  other  side  of  the  road 
three  blacksmiths  were  working  the  native  iron  of  the 
mountains.  A  second  and  third  hot  spring  followed  ;  then 
a  fourth,  in  which  a  number  of  women  were  washing  clothes. 
All  this  in  the  midst  of  a  chaos  of  rock,  water,  and  foliage. 

These  springs  of  Escaldas  have  led  to  the  concession 
which  the  Andorrans  described  to  me  as  opening  a  new, 
and,  I  fear,  not  very  fortunate,  phase  of  their  history.  The 
exploiters  of  the  gambling  interest  of  France,  on  the  point 
of  being  driven  from  Wiesbaden,  Homburg.  and  Baden- 
Baden,  ransacked  Europe  for  a  point  where  they  might  at 
the  same  time  ply  their  business  and  attract  the  fashionable 
world.  They  detected  Andorra;  and  by  the  most  consum 
mate  diplomacy  they  have  succeeded  in  allaying  the  sus 
picions  of  the  government,  in  neutralizing  the  power  of  its 
ancient  policy,  and  in  acquiring  privileges  which,  harmless 
as  they  seem,  may  in  time  wholly  subvert  the  old  order  of 
things.  It  is  impossible  that  this  result  could  have  been 
accomplished  unless  a  party  of  progress,  the  existence  of 
which  has  been  hinted,  has  really  grown  up  among  the 
people.  The  French  speculators,  I  am  told,  undertake  to 
build  a  carriage-road  across  the  Pyrenees ;  to  erect  bathing- 
establishments  and  hotels  on  a  magnificent  scale  at  Escal 
das,  and  to  conduct  the  latter,  under  the  direction  of  the 
authorities  of  Andorra,  for  a  period  of  forty  years,  at  the 


286  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


end  of  which  time  the  latter  shall  be  placed  in  possession 
of  the  roads,  buildings,  and  all  other  improvements.  The 
expense  of  the  undertaking  is  estimated  at  ten  millions  of 
francs.  A  theatre  and  a  bank  (faro  ?)  are  among  the 
features  of  the  speculation.  Meanwhile,  until  the  carriage- 
road  shall  be  built,  temporary  hotels  and  gaming-houses 
are  to  be  erected  in  the  valley  of  the  Ariege,  on  the  French 
side  of  the  Pyrenees,  but  within  the  territory  belonging  to 
Andorra. 

I  do  not  consider  it  as  by  any  means  certain  that  the  plan 
will  be  carried  out ;  but  if  it  should  be,  the  first  step  towards 
the  annexation  of  Andorra  to  France  will  have  been  taken. 
In  any  case,  I  am  glad  to  have  visited  the  republic  while  it 
is  yet  shut  from  the  world. 

Behind  Escaldas  an  affluent  of  the  Valira  dashed  down 
the  mountain  on  the  right,  breaking  the  rich  masses  of 
foliage  with  silver  gleams.  I  halted  on  the  summit  of  the 
first  rocky  rampart,  and  turned  to  take  a  last  view  of  the 
valley.  What  a  picture  !  I  stood  in  the  deep  shadow  of 
the  mountains,  in  the  heart  of  a  wilderness  of  rocks  which 
towered  out  of  evergreen  verdure,  and  seemed  to  vibrate 
amidst  the  rush,  the  foam,  and  the  thunder  of  streams. 
The  houses  of  the  village,  clinging  to  and  climbing  the 
sides  of  the  opening  pass,  made  a  dark  frame,  through 
which  the  green  and  gold  of  the  splendid  valley,  drowned 
in  sunshine,  became,  by  the  force  of  contrast,  limpid  and 
luminous  as  a  picture  of  the  air.  The  rocks  and  houses  of 
Old  Andorra  and  the  tower  of  the  House  of  Government 
made  the  central  point  of  the  view  ;  dazzling  meadows 
below  and  mountain  terraces  above  basked  in  the  faint 
prismatic  lustre  of  the  morning  air.  High  up,  in  the  rear 
of  the  crowning  cliffs,  I  caught  glimpses  of  Alpine  pastures ; 
and  on  the  right,  far  away,  streaks  of  snow.  It  was  a  vision 
never  to  be  forgotten  :  it  was  one  of  the  few  perfect  land 
scapes  of  the  world. 

As  the  path  rose  in  rapid  zigzags  beside  the  split  through 


THE   REPUBLIC    OF   THE   PYRENEES.  287 

which  the  river  pours,  I  came  upon  another  busy  village. 
In  an  open  space  among  the  rocks  there  were  at  least  a 
hundred  bee-hives,  formed  of  segments  of  the  hollowed 
trunks  of  trees.  They  stood  in  rows,  eight  or  ten  feet 
apart ;  and  the  swarms  that  continually  came  and  went 
seemed  to  have  their  separate  paths  marked  out  in  the  air. 
They  moved  softly  and  swiftly  through  each  other  without 
entanglement.  After  passing  the  gateway  of  the  Valira, 
the  path  still  mounted,  and  finally  crept  along  the  side  of  a 
deep  trough,  curving  eastward.  There  were  fields  on  both 
slopes,  wherever  it  was  possible  to  create  them.  Here  I 
encountered  a  body  of  road-makers,  whom  the  French 
speculators  had  set  to  work.  They  were  engaged  in  widen 
ing  the  bridle-path,  so  that  carts  might  pass  to  Escaldas 
from  the  upper  valleys  of  Encamp  and  Canillo.  The  rock 
was  blasted  on  the  upper  side ;  while,  on  the  lower,  work 
men  were  basing  the  walls  on  projecting  points  of  the  preci 
pice.  In  some  places  they  hung  over  deep  gulfs,  adjusting 
the  great  masses  of  stone  with  equal  skill  and  coolness. 

In  an  hour  the  gorge  opened  upon  the  Valley  of  Encamp, 
which  is  smaller,  but  quite  as  wild  and  grand  in  its  features 
as  that  of  Andorra.  Here  the  fields  of  rye  and  barley  were 
only  beginning  to  grow  yellow,  the  flowers  were  those  of  an 
earlier  season,  and  the  ilex  and  box  alone  remained  of  the 
southern  trees  and  shrubs.  Great  thickets  of  the  latter 
fringed  the  crags.  A  high  rock  on  the  left  served  as  a 
pedestal  for  a  church,  with  a  tall,  square  belfry,  which 
leaned  so  much  from  the  perpendicular  that  it  was  not 
pleasant  to  ride  under  it.  The  village  of  Encamp  occupied 
a  position  similar  to  that  of  Escaldas,  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  valley,  and  in  the  opening  of  another  gorge,  the  sides  of 
which  are  so  closely  interfolded  that  the  river  appears  to 
issue  out  of  the  very  heart  of  the  mountain.  It  is  a  queer, 
dirty,  mouldy  old  place.  Even  the  immemorial  rocks  of 
the  Pyrenees  look  new  and  fresh  beside  the  dark  rust  of 
its  walls.  The  people  had  mostly  gone  away  to  their  fields 


288  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 


and  pastures ;  only  a  few  old  men  and  women,  and  the 
youngest  children,  sunned  themselves  at  the  doors.  The 
main  street  had  been  paved  once,  but  the  stones  were  now 
displaced,  leaving  pits  of  mud  and  filth.  In  one  place  the 
houses  were  built  over  it,  forming  dark,  badly  smelling 
arches,  under  which  I  was  forced  to  ride. 

The  path  beyond  was  terribly  rough  and  difficult,  climb 
ing  the  precipices  with  many  windings,  until  it  reached  a 
narrow  ledge  far  above  the  bed  of  the  gorge.  There  were 
frequent  shrines  along  the  way,  at  the  most  dangerous 
points  ;  and  Julian,  who  walked  ahead,  always  lifted  his 
cap  and  muttered  a  prayer  as  he  passed  them.  After  three 
or  four  miles  of  such  travel,  I  reached  the  church  of 
Merichel,  on  an  artificial  platform,  cut  out  of  the  almost 
perpendicular  side  of  the  mountain.  This  is  the  shrine  of 
most  repute  in  Andorra,  and  the  goal  of  many  a  summer 
pilgrimage.  Here  the  mass,  the  rustic  banquet,  and  the 
dance  draw  old  and  young  together  from  all  parts  of  the 
republic. 

I  climbed  another  height,  following  the  eastern  curve  of 
the  gorge,  and  finally  saw  the  village  of  Canillo,  the  capital 
of  one  of  the  six  parishes,  lying  below  me,  in  the  lap  of 
a  third  valley.  It  had  a  brighter  and  fresher  air  than  En 
camp  ;  the  houses  were  larger  and  cleaner,  and  there  were 
garden-plots  about  them.  In  this  valley  the  grain  was  quite 
green  ;  the  ilex  had  disappeared,  making  way  for  the  pop 
lar  and  willow,  but  the  stubborn  box  still  held  its  ground. 
In  every  bush  on  the  banks  of  Valira  sat  a  nightingale  ; 
the  little  brown  bird  sings  most  lustily  where  the  noise  of 
water  accompanies  his  song.  I  never  saw  him  so  fearless  ; 
I  could  have  touched  many  of  the  minstrels  with  my  hand 
as  I  passed. 

At  Canillo  I  crossed  the  Valira,  and  thenceforward  the 
path  followed  its  western  bank.  This  valley  was  closed, 
like  all  the  others,  by  a  pass  cloven  through  the  mountains. 
Upon  one  of  the  natural  bastions  guarding  it  there  is  an 


THE   REPUBLIC    OF   THE   PYRENEES.  289 

ancient  tower,  which  the  people  say  was  built  by  the  Sara 
cens  before  the  Frank  conquest.  The  passage  of  the  gorge 
which  followed  was  less  rugged  than  the  preceding  ones,  — 
an  indication  of  my  approach  to  the  summit  of  the  Pyre 
nees.  In  following  the  Rio  Segre  and  the  Valira,  I  had 
traversed  eight  of  those  tremendous  defiles,  varying  from 
one  to  six  miles  in  length  ;  and  the  heart  of  the  mountain 
region,  where  the  signs  of  force  and  convulsion  always 
diminish,  was  now  attained.  One  picture  on  the  way  was 
so  lovely  that  I  stopped  and  drew  it.  In  the  centre  of  the 
valley,  on  a  solitary  rock,  stood  an  ancient  church  and 
tower,  golden-brown  in  the  sun.  On  the  rio-ht  were  moun- 

•     &  C*5 

tains  clothed  with  forests  of  pine  and  fir ;  in  the  distance, 
fields  of  snow.  All  the  cleared  slopes  were  crimson  with 
the  Alpine-rose,  a  dwarf  variety  of  rhododendron.  Per 
fect  sunshine  covered  the  scene,  and  the  purest  of  breezes 
blew  over  it.  Here  and  there  a  grain-field  clung  to  the 
crags,  or  found  a  place  among  their  tumbled  fragments,  but 
no  living  being  was  to  be  seen. 

The  landscapes  were  now  wholly  northern,  except  the 
sim  and  sky.  Aspens  appeared  on  the  heights,  shivering 
among  the  steady  pines.  After  a  time  I  came  to  a  point 
where  there  were  two  valleys,  two  streams,  and  two  paths. 
Julian  took  the  left,  piloting  me  over  grassy  meadows, 
where  the  perfume  from  beds  of  daffodil  was  almost  too 
powerful  to  breathe.  On  one  side,  all  the  mountain  was 
golden  with  broom-flowers  ;  on  the  other,  a  mass  of  fiery 
crimson,  from  the  Alpine-rose.  The  valley  was  dotted 
with  scattered  cottages  of  the  herdsmen,  as  in  Switzerland. 
In  front  there  were  two  snowy  peaks,  with  a  "  saddle  "  be 
tween  —  evidently  one  of  the  portes  of  the  Pyrenees  ;  yet 
I  saw  no  indications  of  the  hamlet  of  Soldeu,  which  we 
must  pass.  Julian  shouted  to  a  herdsman,  who  told  us  we 
had  taken  the  wrong  valley.  The  porte  before  us  was  that 
of  Fontargente,  across  which  Louis  le  Debonnaire  stretched 
his  chain  on  leaving  Andorra. 

19 


290  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

We  retraced  our  steps,  and  in  half  an  hour  reached  Sol- 
deu,  in  a  high,  bleak  pasture-valley,  where  cultivation 
ceases.  It  is  at  least  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
the  vegetation  is  that  of  the  high  Alps.  We  were  nearly 
famished,  and,  as  there  was  no  sign  of  a  "  hostal,"  entered 
the  first  house.  The  occupant,  a  woman,  offered  to  give 
us  what  she  had,  but  said  that  there  was  another  family 
who  made  a  business  of  entertaining  travellers,  and  we 
would  there  be  better  served.  We  found  the  house,  and 
truly,  after  waiting  an  hour,  were  refreshed  by  a  surprising 
dinner  of  five  courses.  There  was  another  guest,  in  the 
person  of  a  French  butcher  from  the  little  town  of  Hos- 
pitalet,  in  the  valley  of  the  Ariege.  It  was  so  cold  that  we 
all  crowded  about  the  kitchen  fire.  Two  Andorrans  came 
in,  and  sat  down  to  the  table  with  us.  I  have  dined  at 
stately  entertainments  where  there  was  less  grace  and  re 
finement  among  the  company  than  the  butcher  and  the 
two  peasants  exhibited.  There  was  a  dessert  of  roasted 
almonds  and  coffee  (with  a  chasse)  ;  and  after  the  meal  we 
found  the  temperature  of  the  air  very  mild  and  balmy. 

Hospitalet  being  also  my  destination,  I  accepted  the 
butcher's  company,  and  at  one  o'clock  we  set  forth  for  the 
passage  of  the  Pyrenees.  On  leaving  Soldeu  I  saw  the 
last  willow,  in  which  sat  and  sang  the  last  nightingale. 
The  path  rose  rapidly  along  the  steep  slopes  of  grass,  with 
an  amphitheatre  of  the  highest  summits  around  us.  The 
forests  sank  out  of  sight  in  the  glens ;  snow-fields  multi 
plied  far  and  near,  sparkling  in  the  thin  air,  and  the  scenery 
assumed  a  bleak,  monotonous  grandeur.  I  traced  the  Vu- 
lira,  now  a  mere  thread,  to  its  source  in  seven  icy  lakes, 
fed  by  the  snow :  in  those  lakes,  said  the  butcher,  arc,  the 
finest  trout  of  the  Pyrenees.  The  Porte  de  Valira  was 
immediately  above  us,  on  the  left ;  a  last  hard  pull  up  the 
steep,  between  beds  of  snow,  and  we  stood  on  the  summit. 

The  elevation  of  the  pass  is  nearly  eight  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea.  On  either  hand  you  descry  nothing  but  the 


THE  REPUBLIC   OF   THE  PYRENEES.  291 

irregular  lines  of  the  French  and  Spanish  Pyrenees,  rising 
and  falling  in  receding  planes  of  distance.  Rocks,  grass, 
and  snow  make  up  the  scenery,  which,  nevertheless,  im 
presses  by  its  very  simplicity  and  severity. 

The  descent  into  France  is  toilsome,  but  not  dangerous. 
A  mile  or  two  below  the  crest  we  saw  the  fountain  of  the 
Ariege,  at  the  base  of  a  grand  escarpment  of  rock.  Thence 
for  two  hours  we  followed  the  descending  trough  of  the 
river  through  bleak,  grassy  solitudes,  uncheered  by  a  single 
tree,  or  any  sign  of  human  life  except  the  well-worn  path. 
Finally  the  cottage  of  a  grazing-farm  came  into  view,  but 
it  was  tenantless  —  all  the  inhabitants  having  been  over 
whelmed  by  an  avalanche  three  years  ago.  Then  I  dis 
covered  signs  of  a  road  high  up  on  the  opposite  mountain, 
saw  workmen  scattered  along  it,  and  heard  a  volley  of  ex 
plosions.  This  was  the  new  highway  to  Porte  St.  Louis  and 
Puigcerda.  On  a  green  meadow  beside  the  river  walked 
two  gentlemen  and  two  ladies  in  round  hats  and  scarlet 
petticoats. 

"  They  are  picking  out  a  spot  to  build  their  gaming 
houses  upon,"  said  the  butcher ;  "  this  is  still  Andorra." 

A  mile  further  there  was  a  little  bridge  —  the  Pont  de 
Cerda.  A  hut,  serving  as  a  guard-house,  leaned  against 
the  rocks,  but  the  gens  d'armes  were  asleep  or  absent,  and 
I  rode  unquestioned  into  France.  It  was  already  sunset 
in  the  valley,  and  the  houses  of  Hospitalet,  glimmering 
through  the  shadows,  were  a  welcome  sight.  Here  was  the 
beginning  of  highways  and  mail-coaches,  the  movement  of 
the  living  world  again.  I  supped  and  slept  (not  very  com 
fortably,  I  must  confess)  in  the  house  of  my  friend  the 
butcher,  said  good-by  to  Julian  in  the  morning,  and  by 
noon  was  resting  from  my  many  fatigues  in  the  best  inn  of 
Foix. 

But  henceforth  the  Valley  of  Andorra  will  be  one  of  my 
enthusiasms. 


THE   GRANDE  CHARTREUSE. 


ON  my  way  from  the  Pyrenees  to  Germany,  I  turned 
aside  from  the  Rhone  highway  of  travel  to  make  acquaint 
ance  with  a  place  of  which  everybody  has  heard,  yet  which 
seems  to  have  been  partly  dropped  from  the  rapid  itinera 
ries  which  have  come  into  fashion  with  railways.  This  is 
the  celebrated  monastery  called  the  "  Grande  Chartreuse," 
situated  in  an  Alpine  wilderness  known  as  the  "  Desert," 
on  the  borders  of  Savoy.  During  the  last  century,  when 
Gray  and  Horace  Walpole  penetrated  into  those  solitudes, 
it  was  a  well-known  point  of  interest  in  the  "grand  tour ;  " 
but  it  seems  to  have  been  neglected  during  and  since  the 
great  upheaval  of  the  French  Revolution  and  the  Napo 
leonic  Empire.  The  name,  however,  is  kept  alive  on 
the  tongues  of  gourmands  by  a  certain  greenish,  pungent, 
perfumed  liquor,  which  comes  upon  their  tables  at  the  end 
of  dinner. 

The  traveller  from  Lyons  to  Marseilles  passes  within  a 
six-hours'  journey  of  the  Grande  Chartreuse.  If  he  leave 
the  train  at  Valence,  the  branch  road  to  Grenoble  will 
take  him  up  the  Valley  of  the  Isere,  and  he  will  soon  ex 
change  the  rocky  vine-slopes  of  the  Rhone  for  Alpine 
scenery  on  a  scale  hardly  surpassed  in  Switzerland.  This 
was  the  route  which  I  took,  on  my  way  northward.  The 
valley  of  the  Isere,  at  first  broad,  and  showing  on  its  flat, 
stony  fields  traces  of  frequent  inundations,  gradually  con 
tracted  ;  the  cultivation  of  silk  gave  place  to  that  of  grain 
and  vines,  and  the  meadows  of  deep  grass,  studded  with 
huge  walnut-trees,  reproduced,  but  on  a  warmer  and  richer 
scale,  the  character  of  Swiss  scenery.  Night  came  on 
before  I  reached  the  Vale  of  Gresivaudau,  which  is  consid- 


296  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

ered  the  paradise  of  Dauphine,  and  when  the  train  halted 
at  the  station  of  Voreppe,  it  was  pitch-dark  under  a  gather 
ing  rain.  There  was  a  rustic  omnibus  in  waiting,  into 
which  I  crowded  with  a  priest  and  two  farmers,  all  of  whom 
recommended  the  "  Petit  Paris "  as  the  best  inn,  and 
thither,  accordingly,  I  went  when  we  reached  the  village. 
It  was  a  primitive,  but  picturesque  and  inviting  place. 
1  was  ushered  into  a  spacious  kitchen,  with  a  paved  floor, 
and  a  hu<7e  stone  ran<ye  standing  in  the  centre.  The  land- 

£D  &  O 

lady  stood  before  her  pans  and  gave  the  finishing  touch  to 
some  cutlets  while  she  received  my  orders  and  those  of  the 
priest.  The  latter,  when  he  came  into  the  light,  proved  to 
be  a  young  man,  pale,  thin,  and  melancholy,  with  a  worn 
breviary  under  his  arm.  He  asked  to  have  a  bed  imme 
diately.  In  an  adjoining  room,  a  company  of  peasants  were 
drinking  cider  and  thin  wine,  and  discussing  crops  around 
a  deal  table.  I  listened  awhile,  but  finding  it  impossible 
to  understand  their  dialect,  followed  the  example  of  the 
priest.  The  landlady  gave  me  a  clean  bed  in  a  clean  room, 
and  I  speedily  slept  in  spite  of  rain  and  thunder. 

I  had  barely  taken  coffee  in  the  morning  before  an  om 
nibus  drove  up,  on  its  way  to  St.  Laurent  du  Pont,  a  vil 
lage  at  the  mouth  of  the  ravine  which  descends  from  the 
Grande  Chartreuse.  There  was  a  place  inside,  between 
two  sharp-featured  women  and  opposite  another  priest,  who 
was  middle-aged  and  wore  an  air  of  cheerful  resignation. 
This  place  I  occupied,  and  was  presently  climbing  the 
long  mountain  road,  with  a  glorious  picture  of  the  Vale 
of  Gresivaudan  deepening  and  widening  below.  Half 
way  up  the  mountains  beyond  the  Isere  floated  shining 
belts  of  cloud,  the  shadows  of  which  mottled  the  sunlit 
fields  and  gardens.  Above  us,  huge  walls  of  perpendicular 
rock,  crowned  with  forests,  shut  out  the  morning  sky,  but 
the  glens  plunging  down  from  their  bases  were  filled  with 
the  most  splendid  vegetation.  Our  way  upward  was 
through  the  shadows  of  immense  walnut-trees,  beside  the 


THE   GRANDE   CHARTREUSE.  297 

rushing  of  crystal  brooks,  and  in  the  perfume  of  blossom 
ing  grass  and  millions  of  meadow  flowers.  It  seemed 
incredible  that  we  should  be  approaching  a  "  Desert " 
through  such  scenery. 

My  fellow-travellers  were  inclined  to  be  social.  "We  lost 
the  women  at  the  first  little  hamlet  above  Voreppe,  and 
there  only  remained  the  priest  and  a  stout,  swaggering 
person,  who  had  the  appearance  and  manners  of  a  govern 
ment  contractor.  The  former  told  us  that  he  had  a  parish 
on  the  high,  windy  table-lands  of  Champagne,  and  had 
never  before  seen  such  wonderful  mountain  landscapes. 
He  was  now  on  his  way  to  Rome  —  one  of  the  army  of 
six  thousand  "  migratory  ravens  "  (as  the  Italians  called 
them),  who  took  part  in  the  Festival  of  St.  Peter.  He  was 
cheerful  and  tolerant,  with  more  heart  than  intellect,  and 
we  got  on  very  agreeably.  The  contractor  informed  us 
that  the  monks  of  the  Chartreuse  had  an  income  of  a  mil 
lion  francs  a  year,  a  part  of  which  they  spend  in  building 
churches  and  schools.  They  have  recently  built  a  new 
church  for  the  village  of  St.  Laurent  du  Pont. 

In  an  hour  or  more  we  had  reached  the  highest  point  of 
the  road,  which  now  ran  eastward  along  the  base  of  a  line 
of  tremendous  mountains.  On  the  topmost  heights,  above 
the  gray  ramparts  of  rock,  there  were  patches  of  a  bright 
rosy  color,  which  I  at  first  took  to  be  the  Alpine  rhododen 
dron  in  blossom,  but  they  proved  to  be  forests  of  beech, 
which  the  recent  severe  frosts  had  scorched.  The  streams 
from  the  heights  dropped  into  gulfs  yawning  at  the  base 
of  the  mountains,  making  cataracts  of  several  hundred 
feet.  Here  the  grain,  already  harvested  in  the  valley  of 
the  Rhone,  was  still  green,  and  the  first  crop  of  hay  uncut. 

St.  Laurent  du  Pont  is  a  little  village  directly  in  the 
mouth  of  the  gorge.  The  omnibus  drew  up  before  the 
cafe,  and  my  clerical  friend  got  into  a  light  basket  wagon 
for  the  journey  to  the  monastery,  two  leagues  distant.  I 
preferred  to  climb  the  gorge  leisurely,  on  foot,  and  set 


298  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

about  engaging  a  man  as  companion  rather  than  guide. 
The  sky  was  full  of  suspicious  clouds,  there  were  mutter- 
ings  of  thunder  in  the  mountains,  and  the  sun  stung  with 
an  insupportable  power  ;  but  after  breakfast  I  set  out  with 
a  middle-aged  man,  who  had  an  eye  to  profit,  followed  the 
stream  for  a  mile,  and  found  myself  in  the  heart  of  a  ter 
rific  wilderness  of  rock  and  forest.  In  front  the  mountains 
closed,  and  only  a  thin  line  of  shadow  revealed  the  split 
through  which  we  must  pass.  Before  reaching  it,  there  is 
an  ancient  forge  on  the  left,  and  a  massive  building  on  the 
right,  which  the  monks  have  recently  erected  for  the  man 
ufacture  of  the  liqueur  which  bears  the  name  of  their  mon 
astery. 

Just  beyond  the  forge  are  the  remains  of  an  ancient  gate, 
which  once  closed  the  further  passage.  The  road  is  hewn 
out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  the  sides  of  the  cleft  are  so  near 
together  that  the  masonry  supporting  the  road  is  held  firm 
by  timbers  crossing  the  abyss  and  morticed  into  the  op 
posite  rock.  Formerly  there  was  only  a  narrow  and  dan 
gerous  mule-path,  and  the  passage  must  have  had  an  exhil 
arating  character  of  danger  which  the  present  security  of 
the  road  destroys.  It  was  so  in  Gray's  time,  inspiring  him 
with  these  almost  Horatian  lines  :  — 

"  Per  invias  rupes,  fera  per  juga, 
Clivosque  przeruptos,  sonantes 

Inter  aquas,  nemorumque  noctem." 

This  closed  throat  of  the  mountains  is  short :  it  soon  ex 
pands  a  little,  allowing  the  splendid  deciduous  forests  to 
descend  to  the  water's  brink.  But  above,  on  all  sides,  the 
rocks  start  out  in  sheer  walls  and  towers,  and  only  a  nar 
row  strip  of  sky  is  visible  between  their  crests.  After  a 
mile  of  this  scenery  I  reached  a  saw-mill,  beside  which 
there  was  some  very  fine  timber.  Still  another  mile,  and 
the  road  was  carried  across  the  defile  by  a  lofty  stone 
bridge  of  a  single  arch.  "  This  is  the  bridge  of  San 


THE    GRANDE   CHARTREUSE.  209 

Bruno,"  said  the  guide,  ';  and  we  are  now  just  half-way  to 
the  monastery."  In  spite  of  the  shadows  of  the  forests,  the 
air  was  almost  stifling  in  its  still  heat,  and  I  sat  down  on 
the  parapet  of  the  bridge  to  take  breath.  This  was  the 
"  Desert,"  whither  the  Bishop  of  Grenoble  directed  San 
Bruno  to  fly  from  the  temptations  of  the  world.  At  that 
time  it  could  have  been  accessible  only  with  great  labor 
and  danger,  and  was  much  more  secluded  than  the  caves 
of  the  Thebaid.  But  the  word  conveys  no  idea  of  the 
character  of  the  scenery.  For  the  whole  distance  it  is  a 
deep  cleft  in  the  heart  of  lofty  mountains,  overhung  with 
precipices  a  thousand  feet  high,  yet  clothed,  wherever  a 
root  can  take  hold,  by  splendid  forests.  Ferns  and  wild 
flowers  hang  from  every  ledge,  and  the  trees  are  full  of 
singing  birds. 

Still  climbing,  we  mounted  high  above  the  stream,  and 
in  twenty  minutes  reached  a  natural  gateway,  formed  by  a 
solitary  pillar  of  rock,  three  hundred  feet  high,  and  not 
more  than  forty  feet  in  diameter.  Here,  six  weeks  before, 
a  wagon  with  six  young  peasants  went  over  the  brink,  and 
fell  into  the  terrible  abyss.  The  driver,  whose  carelessness 
occasioned  the  accident,  leaped  from  the  wagon  ;  the  other 
five  went  down,  and  were  dashed  to  pieces.  Between  the 
aiguille  (needle),  as  it  is  called,  and  the  mountain-wall, 
there  was  formerly  a  gate,  beyond  which  no  woman  was 
allowed  to  pass.  The  sex  is  now  permitted  to  visit  the 
monastery,  but  not  to  enter  its  gates.  This  part  of  the 
road  is  almost  equal  to  the  famous  Via  Mala.  A  series  of 
tunnels  have  been  cut  through  the  sheer,  projecting  crags, 
the  intervening  portions  of  the  road  being  built  up  with 
great  labor  from  below.  One  hangs  in  mid-air  over  the 
dark  chasm,  where  the  foam  of  the  rushing  waters  shines 
like  a  phosphoric  light. 

Finally,  the  slope  of  the  mountains  becomes  less  abrupt, 
the  shattered  summits  lean  back,  and  the  glen  grows 
brighter  under  a  broader  field  of  sky.  On  the  right  the 


300  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

forests  are  interrupted  by  pasture  grounds  ;  the  road  is  now 
safe,  though  very  steep,  and  the  buildings  of  the  monastery 
presently  come  into  view,  a  mass  of  quadrangular  piles  of 
masonry,  towers,  and  pyramidal  roofs,  inclosed  by  a  high 
wall  which  must  be  considerably  more  than  a  mile  in  cir 
cuit.  The  place,  in  fact,  resembles  a  fortified  city.  The 
gateway  was  closed  on  the  side  by  which  I  approached,  but 
an  old  monk,  with  shaven  head  and  flowing  beard,  who  was 
driving  an  ox-cart  (the  first  time  I  ever  saw  one  of  his 
class  so  usefully  employed),  directed  me  to  go  around  to 
the  eastern  front.  An  isolated  house,  shaded  by  a  group 
of  old  linden-trees,  is  set  apart  for  the  use  of  the  female 
visitors,  who  are  attended  by  an  old  woman,  usually  a  sister 
of  some  conventual  order. 

My  guide  rang  the  bell  at  the  entrance,  and  the  door 
was  immediately  opened  by  a  young  monk  in  a  long,  brown 
gown.  "Can  I  be  admitted?"  I  asked.  "Yes,"  said  he 
in  a  whisper,  "  the  guide  will  take  you  to  the  father  who 
receives  strangers."  I  was  conducted  across  a  grassy 
court-yard,  in  which  there  were  two  large  stone  fountains, 
to  the  main  building.  Several  brethren  in  brown  were 
passing  swiftly  to  and  fro  in  the  cool,  spacious  corridors, 
but  they  took  no  notice  of  me.  I  found  the  father  in  a 
comfortable  chamber,  hung  with  maps.  He  was  a  bright, 
nimble  man  of  sixty,  with  shaven  head  and  face  ;  but  for 
his  keen  eyes,  he  would  not  have  seemed  more  than  half 
alive,  his  complexion  and  his  shroud-like  gown  being 
nearly  the  same  color.  I  told  him  who  I  was,  why  I  came, 
and  asked  permission  to  stay  until  the  next  day.  "  Cer 
tainly,"  he  whispered,  "  as  long  as  you  please.  I  will  show 
you  into  the  refectory,  and  order  that  you  have  a  room." 

I  was  somewhat  unwell,  and  the  heat  and  fatigue  had 
made  me  weak,  which  the  father  probably  noticed,  for  on 
reaching  the  refectory  —  a  great,  bare  apartment,  with  an 
old-fashioned  chimney- place  for  burning  losfs  —  he  said: 

•/I  C3  S 

"  You  must  have  a  glass  of  our  liqueur,  the  green  kind, 


THE   GRANDE    CHARTREUSE.  301 

which  is  the  strongest."  It  was  like  an  aromatic  flame, 
but  it  really  gave  me  a  different  view  of  life,  in  the  space 
of  fifteen  minutes.  The  gargon  was  a  sturdy  fellow  in  a 
blue  blouse,  evidently  a  peasant  hired  for  the  season.  His 
services  were  confined  to  the  refectory.  Another  brother 
in  brown,  with  a  mild,  ignorant  countenance,  conducted  me 
to  an  upper  chamber,  or  rather  cell,  containing  a  bed,  a 
table,  a  chair,  and  bowl  of  water,  with  a  large  private  altar 
and  pne-dieu.  Having  taken  possession  and  put  the  key 
in  my  pocket,  I  returned  to  the  refectory,  where  the  white 
father  hegged  me  to  make  myself  at  home,  and  likewise 
vanished.  There  are  fixed  hours  when  strangers  are  con 
ducted  through  the  buildings,  and,  as  I  had  still  some  time 
to  wait,  I  went  forth  from  the  monastery  and  set  to  work 
at  a  sketch  of  the  place. 

The  monks  of  the  Chartreuse  now  belong  to  the  order 
of  La  Trappe.  San  Bruno  first  came  hither  in  the  year 
1084,  and  the  foundation  of  the  monastery  dates  from  1137. 
The  Trappist,  or  silent  system,  arose  in  the  sixteenth  cen 
tury,  but  I  am  ignorant  of  the  date  when  it  was  here  in 
troduced.  It  is  probably  the  severest  and  most  unnatural 
of  all  forms  of  monastic  discipline.  Isolation  is  cruel 
enough  in  itself,  without  the  obligation  of  silence.  The 
use  of  monasteries,  as  conservatories  of  learning,  as  sanc 
tuaries  of  peace  in  the  midst  of  normal  war,  has  long  since 
ceased  :  they  are  now  an  anachronism  and  they  will  soon 
become  an  offense.  The  grand  pile  of  buildings  before  me 
was  ravaged  during  the  French  Revolution,  and  the  monks 
turned  adrift.  Although  the  government  still  keeps  its 
hold  on  the  greater  part  of  the  property  then  sequestrated, 
it  has  favored  the  monastery  in  every  other  possible  way. 
France  swarms  with  black  robes,  as  it  has  not  before  for  a 
hundred  years.  The  Empress  Eugenie  is  a  petted  daughter 
of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  the  willing  instrument  of  its 
plans,  so  far  as  her  influence  extends.  The  monks  of  La 
Chartreuse,  however,  to  judge  from  what  I  saw  of  their 


802  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

industry  and  business  talent,  are  far  less  objectionable  than 
those  of  their  brethren  who  are  not  bound  to  solitude  and 
silence. 

At  the  appointed  hour  I  was  again  admitted  with  a  whis 
per,  and  joined  three  dark  priests  (also  on  their  way  to 
Rome)  for  a  tour  of  the  interior.  The  mild  brother  in 
brown  was  our  guide.  After  calling  our  attention  to  a 
notice  which  requested  that  all  visitors  to  the  monastery 
would  neither  stand  still  nor  speak  above  their  breath,  he 
unlocked  a  gate  and  ushered  us  into  the  inner  corridors. 
We  walked  down  the  dim  echoing  vaults  of  solid  masonry, 
and  paused  at  a  door,  through  which  came  the  sound 
of  a  sepulchral  chant.  It  was  the  church,  wherein  two 
ancient  fathers  were  solemnly  intoning  a  service  which 
seemed  like  a  miserere.  The  brother  conducted  us  to  an 
upper  gallery,  dipped  his  fingers  into  the  font,  and  pre 
sented  the  holy  water  to  me  with  a  friendly  smile.  I  am 
afraid  he  was  cut  to  the  heart  when  I  shook  my  head,  say 
ing  :  '•  Thank  you,  I  don't  need  it."  There  was  art  ex 
pression  of  stupefaction  in  his  large,  innocent  eyes,  and 
thenceforward  he  kept  near  me,  always  turning  to  me  with 
a  tender,  melancholy  interest,  as  if  hoping  and  praying  that 
there  might,  for  me,  be  some  escape  from  the  hell  of 
heretics. 

There  was  nothing  worthy  of  notice  in  the  architecture 
of  the  church,  or  the  various  chapels.  That  for  the  dead 
was  hung  with  skulls  and  cross-bones,  on  a  ground  of 
black ;  the  grave-yard,  in  which  the  dead  monks  lie,  like 
the  Quakers,  under  unmarked  mounds,  was  more  cheerful. 
Here,  at  least,  grass  and  wild-flowers  are  not  prohibited, 
the  sweetest  mountain  breezes  find  their  way  over  the 
monastic  walls,  and  the  blue  sky  above  is  filled  with  a 
silence,  in  which  there  is  nothing  painful.  The  most  in 
teresting  thing  I  saw  was  the  Hall  of  the  Order,  filled  with 
portraits  of  its  generals,  and  with  frescoes  illustrating  the 
life  of  San  Bruno.  A  statue  of  the  Saint  represents  him 


THE   GRANDE   CHARTREUSE.  303 

as  a  venerable  man,  of  pure,  noble,  and  benevolent  aspect. 
The  head,  I  suspect,  is  imaginary,  but  it  is  very  fine.  As 
works  of  art,  the  pictures  have  no  merit ;  the  three  priests, 
however,  looked  upon  them  with  awful  reverence.  So 
much  depends  on  place,  circumstance,  and  sentiment ! 
The  brush  of  Raphael  could  have  added  nothing  to  the 
impression  which  these  men  drew  from  the  stiff  workman 
ship  of  some  unknown  painter. 

I  was  astonished  at  the  extent  of  the  buildings.  There 
is  a  single  corridor,  Gothic,  of  solid  stone,  six  hundred  and 
sixty  feet  in  length.  Looking  down  it,  the  perspective 
dwindles  almost  to  a  point.  Opening  from  it  and  from  the 
other  intersecting  corridors  are  the  cells  of  the  monks,  each 
with  a  Biblical  sentence  in  Latin  (generally  of  solemn  im 
port)  painted  on  the  doors.  The  furniture  of  these  cells  is 
very  simple,  but  a  human  skull  is  always  part  of  it.  In  the 
rear  of  each  is  a  small  garden,  inclosed  by  a  wall,  where 
the  fathers  and  brothers  attend  to  their  own  flowers  and 
vegetables.  They  must  have,  it  seems,  some  innocent  sol 
ace  ;  the  silence,  the  fasting,  the  company  of  the  skull,  and 
the  rigid  ceremonials,  would  else,  I  imagine,  drive  the  most 
of  them  mad.  Those  whom  we  met  in  the  corridor  walked 
with  an  excited,  flying  step,  as  if  trying  to  outrun  their  own 
thoughts.  Their  faces  were  pale  and  stern  ;  they  rarely 
looked  at  us,  and,  of  course,  never  spoke.  The  gloom  and 
silence,  the  hushed  whispers  of  the  priests  and  guide,  and 
the  prohibition  put  upon  my  own  tongue,  oppressed  me 
painfully  at  last.  I  longed  to  startle  the  dead  repose  of 
the  corridors  by  a  shout  full  of  freedom  and  rejoicing. 

There  are  at  present  forty  patres  and  twenty  fratres  in  the 
monastery.  The  direction  of  external  matters  is  intrusted 
to  a  few,  who  enjoy  more  contact  with  the  world,  and  must 
be  absolved  from  the  obligation  of  silence.  Moreover  the 
rules  in  this  respect  are  not  so  strenuously  enforced  as 
formerly.  The  monks  are  allowed  to  converse  slightly  on 
Sundays  and  saints'  days,  and  once  a  week,  when  they  walk 


804  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

in  procession  to  the  Chapel  of  St.  Bruno,  higher  up  the 
mountain.  An  experienced  father  has  charge  of  the  manu 
facture  of  the  liqueur,  which  is  made,  I  learned,  from  the 
young  shoots  of  the  mountain  fir,  mixed  with  certain 
aromatic  herbs.  Some  parts  of  the  process  are  kept  secret. 
The  Chartreuse  is  sold,  even  on  the  spot,  at  a  high  price, 
and  is  sent  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 

When  we  returned  to  the  refectory,  I  found  several 
gentlemen  from  Chambery  in  waiting.  They,  also,  in 
tended  to  stay  all  night,  and  to  start  at  one  in  the  morning  for 
the  ascent  of  the  Grand  Somme,  the  highest  pinnacle  of  the 
mountain.  I  predicted  rain,  but  they  were  not  to  be  dis 
couraged.  The  result  was,  as  I  learned  next  morning,  that 
they  rose  at  the  appointed  time,  groped  about  in  the  for 
est  in  perfect  darkness,  and  came  back  in  half  an  hour 
drenched  to  the  skin.  The  servitor  informed  me  that  two 
Englishmen  had  arrived,  and  were  entertained  in  another 
part  of  the  monastery.  I  learned  for  the  first  time  that,  the 
better  to  preserve  quiet  and  order,  the  guests  are  separated 
according  to  their  nationalities.  This  explained  the  mean 
ing  of  "  Salle  de  la  France  "  on  the  door  of  the  hall  in  which 
I  found  myself.  Americans  are  rare  visitors,  and  I  presume 
they  thought  it  safest  to  put  me  with  the  Frenchmen. 

It  is  always  Lent  in  the  Grand  Chartreuse.  Neverthe 
less,  the  dinner  of  eggs,  fish,  fruits,  cheese,  and  wine  which 
was  served  to  us  was  of  excellent  quality.  The  bed  was 
coarse  but  clean,  and  after  putting  out  my  lamp  to  hide  the 
reproachful  eyes  of  the  Virgin,  I  slept  soundly.  Breakfast^ 
however,  was  a  little  too  lean  for  my  taste.  Instead  of  coffee 
they  gave  me  half-cooked  cabbage  soup  and  a  lump  of  black 
bread.  The  bill  was  five  francs.  Herein,  I  think,  the  monks 
are  right.  They  make  a  moderate  charge  for  what  they 
furnish,  instead  of  expecting  the  traveller  (as  in  other 
monasteries)  to  give  five  times  the  worth  of  it  as  a  dona 
tion.  Living  in  such  a  wilderness,  at  the  height  of  4,300 
feet  above  the  sea,  it  is  a  great  labor  to  keep  the  requisite 


THE    GRANDE    CHARTREUSE.  305 

supplies  on  hand.  Poor  travellers  are  not  only  lodged  and 
fed  gratuitously,  but  sometimes  receive  a  small  addition  to 
their  funds. 

Nevertheless,  while  I  felt  a  positive  respect  for  the  indus 
try,  fortitude,  and  charity  of  the  monks  of  the  Chartreuse,  I 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  as  I  issued  from  its  whispering 
corridors.  I  believe  I  talked  to  my  guide  in  a  much  louder 
voice  than  usual,  as  we  returned  down  the  gorge.  The  visit 
had  been  full  of  interest,  yet  I  could  not  have  guessed,  in 
advance,  how  oppressive  was  the  prohibition  of  speech.  I 
shall  never  again  admire  the  silent  and  solitary  system  of 
some  of  our  penitentiaries. 

At  St.  Laurent  du  Pont  I  took  the  omnibus,  getting  a 
front  seat  beside  the  coachman,  which  I  kept,  not  only  to 
Voreppe,  but  down  the  magnificent  valley  of  Gresivaudan 
to  Grenoble.  The  mountains,  on  the  side  toward  the  Isere, 
appear  to  be  absolutely  inaccessible.  No  one  would  guess, 
on  looking  up  at  them  from  below,  what  a  remarkable  settle 
ment  has  existed  for  centuries  within  their  solitudes. 


20 


THE  KYFFHAUSER  AND  ITS  LEGENDS. 


THURINGIA,  "  The  Heart  of  Germany,"  has  for  many  a 
century  ceased  to  be  a  political  designation,  yet  it  still  lives 
in  the  mouths  and  the  songs  of  the  people  as  the  well- 
beloved  name  for  all  that  middle  region  lying  between  the 
Hartz  on  the  north  and  the  mountain-chain  stretching  from 
the  Main  to  the  Elbe  on  the  south.  A  few  points,  such  as 
Eisenach,  Weimar,  and  Jena,  are  known  to  the  tourist ;  the 
greater  part,  although  the  stage  whereon  many  of  the  most 
important  events  in  early  and  mediaeval  German  history 
were  enacted,  has  not  yet  felt  the  footstep  of  the  curious 
stranger.  From  the  overthrow  of  its  native  monarchy  by 
the  Franks,  in  the  sixth  century,  to  the  close  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  War,  in  the  seventeenth,  the  fortunes  of  this  land 
symbolized,  in  a  great  measure,  those  of  the  Teutonic  race. 
Behind  battle  and  crime  and  knightly  deed  sprang  up  those 
flowers  of  legend  whose  mature  seed  is  poetry.  In  no  part 
of  Europe  do  they  blossom  so  thickly  as  here. 

I  had  already  stood  in  the  hall  of  the  Minnesingers  on  the 
Wartburg  ;  had  crept  into  the  Cave  of  Venus,  on  the  moun 
tain  of  Tannhauser  ;  had  walked  through  the  Valley  of  Joy, 
where  the  two  wives  of  the  Count  of  Gleichen  first  met  face 
to  face ;  and  had  stood  on  the  spot  where  Winfried,  the 
English  apostle,  cut  down  the  Druid  oaks,  and  set  up  in 
their  stead  the  first  altar  to  Christ.  But  on  the  northern 
border  of  Thiiringia,  where  its  last  mountains  look  across 
the  Golden  Mead  towards  the  dark  summits  of  the  Hartz, 
there  stands  a  castle,  in  whose  ruins  sleeps  the  favorite 
tradition  of  Germany,  —  a  legend  which,  changing  with  the 
ages,  became  the  embodiment  of  an  idea,  and  now  repre 
sents  the  national  unity,  strength,  and  freedom.  This  is 


310  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

the  Kyffhauser ;  and  the  Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa 
sleeps  under  it,  in  a  crypt  of  the  mountain,  waiting  for  the 
day  when  the  whole  land,  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Alps,  shall 
be  ready  to  receive  a  single  ruler.  Then  he  will  come  forth, 
and  the  lost  Empire,  will  be  restored. 

Many  a  time,  looking  towards  the  far-away  Brocken  from 
the  heights  of  the  Thiiringian  Forest,  had  I  seen  the  tower 
of  the  Kyff  hiiuser  like  a  speck  on  the  horizon,  and  as  often 
had  resolved  to  cross  the  twenty  intervening  leagues.  The 
day  was  appointed  and  postponed  —  for  years,  as  it  hap 
pened  ;  but  a  desire  which  is  never  given  up  works  out  its 
own  fulfillment  in  the  course  of  time,  and  so  it  was  with 
mine.  It  is  not  always  best  to  track  a  legend  too  closely. 
The  airy  brow  of  Tannhauser's  Mountain  proved  to  be  very 
ugly  rock  and  very  tenacious  clay,  when  I  had  climbed  it ; 
and  I  came  forth  from  the  narrow  slit  of  a  cavern  torn, 
squeezed  out  of  breath,  and  spotted  with  tallow.  Some 
thing  of  the  purple  atmosphere  of  the  mountain  and  the 
mystery  of  its  beautiful  story  has  vanished  since  then.  But 
the  day  of  my  departure  for  the  Kyffhauser  was  meant  for 
an  excursion  into  dream-land.  When  the  Summer,  depart 
ing,  stands  with  reluctant  feet ;  when  the  Autumn  looks 
upon  the  land,  yet  has  not  taken  up  her  fixed  abode  ;  when 
the  freshness  of  Spring  is  revived  in  every  cloudless  morn 
ing,  and  the  afternoons  melt  slowly  into  smoke  and  golden 
vapor,  —  then  comes,  for  a  short  space,  the  season  of  illu 
sion,  of  credulity,  of  winsome  superstition. 

On  such  a  day  I  went  northward  from  Gotha  into  a 
boundless,  undulating  region  of  tawny  harvest  and  stubble 
fields.  The  plain  behind  me,  stretching  to  the  foot  of  the 
Thiiringian  Forest,  was  covered  with  a  silvery,  shimmering 
atmosphere,  on  which  the  scattered  villages,  the  orchards, 
and  the  poplar-bordered  highways  were  dimly  blotted,  like 
the  first  timid  sketch  of  a  picture,  which  shall  grow  into 
clear,  confident  color.  Far  and  wide,  over  the  fields,  the 
peasants  worked  silently  and  steadily  among  their  flax, 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  311 

oats,  and  potatoes,  —  perhaps  rejoicing  in  the  bounty  of  the 
sunshine,  but  too  much  in  earnest  to  think  of  singinor. 

»  &         t5 

Only  the  harvest  of  the  vine  is  gathered  to  music.  The 
old  swallows  collected  their  flocks  of  young  on  the 
ploughed  land,  and  drilled  them  for  the  homeward  flight. 
The  sheep,  kept  together  in  a  dense  gray  mass,  nibbled 
diligently  among  the  stubble,  guarded  only  by  a  restless 
dog.  At  a  corner  of  the  field  the  box-house  of  the  shep 
herd  rested  on  its  wheels,  and  he  was  probably  asleep 
within  it.  Wains,  laden  with  sheaves,  rumbled  slowly 
along  the  road  towards  the  village  barns.  Only  the  ravens 
wheeled  and  croaked  uneasily,  as  if  they  had  a  great  deal 
of  work  to  do,  and  couldn't  decide  what  to  undertake  first. 
I  stretched  myself  out  luxuriously  in  the  carriage,  and 
basked  in  the  tempered  sunshine.  I  had  nothing  to  do  but 
to  watch  the  mellow  colors  of  the  broadening  landscape,  as 
we  climbed  the  long  waves  of  earth,  stretching  eastward  and 
westward  out  of  sight.  Those  mixed,  yet  perfect  moods, 
which  come  equally  from  the  delight  of  the  senses  and 
the  release  of  the  imagination,  seem  to  be  the  very  essence 
of  poetry,  yet  how  rarely  do  they  become  poetry !  The 
subtile  spirit  of  song  cannot  often  hang  poised  in  thin  air ; 
it  must  needs  rest  on  a  basis,  however  slender,  of  feeling 
or  reflection.  Eichendorff  is  the  only  poet  to  whom  com 
pletely  belongs  the  narrow  border-land  of  rnoods  and  sen 
sations.  Yet  the  key  note  of  the  landscape  around  me 
was  struck  by  Tennyson  in  a  single  fortunate  word,  — 

"  In  looking  on  the  happy  Autumn-fields." 

The  earth  had  finished  its  summer  work  for  man,  and  now 
breathed  of  rest  and  peace  from  tree,  and  bush,  and  shorn 
stubble,  and  reviving  grass.  Jt  was  still  the  repose  of  lusty 
life  ;  the  beginning  of  death,  the  sadness  of  the  autumn 
was  to  come. 

In  crossing  the  last  hill,  before  descending  to  the  city  of 
Langensalza,  I  saw  one  of  the  many  reverse  sides  of  this 
fair  picture  of  life.  A  peasant  girl,  ragged,  dusty,  and 


312  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

tired,  with  a  young  child  in  her  lap,  sat  on  a  stone  seat  by 
the  wayside.  She  had  no  beauty ;  her  face  was  brown  and 
hard,  her  hair  tangled,  her  figure  rude  and  strong,  and  she 
held  the  child  with  a  mechanical  clasp,  in  which  there  was 
instinct,  but  not  tenderness.  Yet  it  needed  but  a  single 
glance  to  read  a  story  of  poverty,  and  of  shame  and  de 
sertion  ignorantly  encountered  and  helplessly  endured. 
Here  was  no  acute  sense  of  degradation  ;  only  a  blind? 
brutish  wretchedness.  It  seemed  to  me,  as  I  saw  her, 
looking  stolidly  into  the  sunny  air,  that  she  was  repeating 
the  questions,  over  and  over,  without  hope  of  answer : 
"  Why  am  I  in  the  world  ?  What  is  to  become  of  me  ?  " 

At  Langensalza  I  took  a  lighter  carriage,  drawn  by  a 
single  horse,  which  was  harnessed  loosely  on  the  left  side 
of  a  long  pole.  Unfortunately  I  had  a  garrulous  old  driver 
who  had  seen  something  of  last  year's  battle,  and  supposed 
that  nothing  could  interest  me  more  than  to  know  precisely 
where  certain  Prussian  regiments  were  posted.  Before  I 
had  divined  his  intention,  he  left  the  highway,  and  carried 
me  across  the  fields  to  the  top  of  the  Jews'  Hill,  which  was 
occupied  at  the  commencement  of  the  battle  by  the  Prus 
sian  artillery.  The  turf  is  still  marked  with  the  ragged 
holes  of  the  cannon-balls.  In  the  plain  below,  many  trees 
are  slowly  dying  from  an  overdose  of  lead.  In  the  fields 
which  the  farmers  were  ploughing  one  sees  here  and  there 
a  headstone  of  granite  or  an  iron  crucifix  ;  but  all  other 
traces  of  the  struggle  have  disappeared.  The  little  mill, 
which  was  the  central  point  of  the  fight,  has  been  well  re 
paired  ;  only  some  cannon-balls,  grim  souvenirs,  are  left 
sticking  in  the  gable-wall.  A  mile  further,  across  the 
Unstrut,  at  the  commencement  of  the  rising  country,  is  the 
village  of  Merxleben,  where  the  Hanoverians  were  posted. 
Its  streets  are  as  dull  and  sleepy  as  ever  before.  Looking 
at  the  places  where  the  plaster  has  been  knocked  off  the 
houses,  one  would  not  guess  the  instruments  by  which  it 
was  done. 


THE   KYFFHAUSER    AND    ITS   LEGENDS.  313 

Some  distance  further,  at  a  safe  height,  my  old  man 
halted  beside  two  poplars.  "  Here,"  he  said,  "  the  King 
of  Hanover  stood."  Did  he  keep  up  the  mimicry  of  sight, 
I  wonder,  while  the  tragedy  was  going  on  ?  This  blind 
sovereign  represents  the  spirit  of  monarchy  in  its  purest 
essence.  Though  totally  blind,  from  a  boy,  he  pretends 
to  see,  because  —  the  people  must  perceive  no  defect  in  a 
king.  When  he  rides  out,  the  adjutants  on  both  sides  are 
attached  to  his  arms  by  fine  threads ;  and  he  is  thus 
guided,  while  appearing  to  guide  himself.  He  visits  pic 
ture-galleries,  admires  landscapes,  and  makes  remarks 
upon  the  good  or  ill  appearance  of  his  courtiers.  After 
the  battle  of  Langensalza,  which  he  pretended  to  direct, 
he  sent  his  uniform  to  the  museum  at  Hanover,  with  some 
straws  and  wheat-blades  from  the  field  where  he  stood 
sewed  upon  it  in  various  places !  Other  monarchs  of 
Europe  have  carried  the  tattered  trappings  of  absolutism 
into  a  constitutional  form  of  government,  but  none  of  them 
has  been  so  exquisitely  consistent  as  this  man. 

We  plodded  forward  over  vast  tawny  waves  of  land 
scape,  as  regular  as  the  swells  of  the  sea.  All  this  terri 
tory,  once  so  rich  and  populous,  was  reduced  to  a  desert 
during  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  and  two  centuries  have 
barely  sufficed  to  reclaim  it.  After  that  war,  Germany 
possessed  only  twenty-five  per  cent,  of  the  men,  the  cattle, 
and  the  dwellings  which  she  owned  when  it  began,  and 
this  was  the  least  of  the  evil.  The  new  generation  had 
grown  up  in  insecurity,  in  idleness,  immorality,  and  crime ; 
the  spirit  of  the  race,  was  broken,  its  blood  was  tainted, 
and  it  has  ever  since  then  been  obliged  to  struggle  from 
decadence  into  new  power.  We  must  never  lose  sight  of 
these  facts  when  we  speak  of  the  Germany  of  the  present 
day.  Well  for  us  that  we  have  felt  only  the  shock  and 
struggle,  the  first  awakening  of  the  manly  element,  not  the 
later  poison  of  war  ! 

After  more  than  two  hours  on  the  silent,  lonely  heights, 


314  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

—  scarcely  a  man  being  here  at  work  in  the  fields  or 
abroad  on  the  road,  —  I  approached  a  little  town  called 
Ebeleben,  in  the  principality  of  Schwarzburg-Sondershau- 
sen.  The  driver  insisted  on  baiting  his  horse  at  the  k>  mu 
nicipal  tavern,"  as  it  was  called  ;  and  I  remembered  that 
in  the  place  lived  a  gentleman  whom  I  had  met  nine  years 
before.  Everybody  knew  the  Amtsrath  ;  he  was  at  home  ; 
it  was  the  large  house  beside  the  castle.  Ebeleben  was 
a  former  residence  of  the  princess  ;  but  now  its  wonderful 
rococo  gardens  have  run  wild,  the  fountains  and  waterfalls 
are  dry,  the  stone  statues  have  lost  their  noses  and  arms, 
and  the  wooden  sentries  posted  at  all  the  gates  have  rotted 
to  pieces.  The  remains  are  very  funny.  Not  a  particle 
of  melancholy  can  be  attached  to  the  decayed  grotesque. 

I  went  into  the  court-yard  of  the  house  to  which  I  had 
been  directed.  A  huge  parallelogram  of  stone  and  steep 
roofs  inclosed  it ;  there  were  thirteen  ploughs  in  a  row  on 
one  side,  and  three  mountains  of  manure  on  the  other. 
As  no  person  was  to  be  seen,  I  mounted  the  first  flight  of 
steps,  and  found  myself  in  a  vast,  antiquated  kitchen.  A 
servant,  thrusting  her  head  from  behind  a  door,  told  me  to 
go  forward.  Pantries  and  store-rooms  followed,  passages 
filled  with  antique  household  gear,  and  many  a  queer  nook 
and  corner ;  but  I  at  last  reached  the  front  part  of  the 
building,  and  found  its  owner.  His  memory  was  better 
than  I  had  ventured  to  hope  ;  I  was  made  welcome  so 
cordially,  that  only  the  sad  news  that  the  mistress  of  the 
house  lay  at  the  point  of  death  made  my  visit  brief.  The 
Amtsrath,  who  farms  a  thousand  acres,  led  me  back  to  the 
tavern  through  his  garden,  saying,  "  We  must  try  and  bear 
all  that  comes  to  us,"  as  I  took  leave. 

A  few  years  ago  there  was  a  wild,  heathery  moorland, 
the  haunt  of  gypsies  and  vagabonds,  beyond  Ebeleben. 
Now  it  is  all  pasture  and  grain-field,  of  thin  and  barren 
aspect,  but  steadily  growing  better.  The  dark-blue  line  I 
had  seen  to  the  north,  during  the  day,  now  took  the  shape 


THE    KYFFIIAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  815 

of  hills  covered  with  forest,  and  the  road  passed  between 
them  into  the  head  of  a  winding  valley.  The  green  of 
Thiiringian  meadows,  the  rich  masses  of  beech  and  oak, 
again  refreshed  my  eyes.  The  valley  broadened  as  it  fell, 
and  the  castle  and  spires  of  Sondershatisen  came  into  view. 
An  equipage,  drawn  by  four  horses,  came  dashing  up  from 
a  side-road.  There  were  three  persons  in  it ;  the  short, 
plain-faced  man  in  a  felt  hat  was  the  reigning  prince,  Giin- 
ther  von  Schwarzburg.  There  was  not  much  of  his  illus 
trious  namesake,  the  Emperor,  in  his  appearance  ;  but  he 
had  an  honest,  manly  countenance,  and  I  thought  it  no 
harm  to  exchange  greetings. 

I  think  Sondershausen  must  be  the  quietest  capital  in 
Europe.  It  is  said  to  have  six  thousand  inhabitants,  about 
two  hundred  of  whom  I  saw.  Four  were  walking  in  a 
pleasant,  willow-shaded  path  beside  the  mills ;  ten  were 
wandering  in  the  castle-park  ;  and  most  of  the  remainder, 
being  children,  were  playing  in  the  streets.  When  I  left, 
next  morning,  by  post  for  the  nearest  railway  station,  be 
yond  the  Golden  Mead,  I  was  the  only  passenger.  But  the 
place  is  well  built,  and  has  an  air  of  contentment  and 
comfort. 

I  was  here  on  the  southern  side  of  the  mountain  ridge 
which  is  crowned  by  the  Kyff  hauser,  and  determined  to 
cross  to  Kelbra,  in  the  Golden  Mead,  at  its  northern  base. 
The  valley  was  draped  in  the  silver  mists  of  the  morning 
as  I  set  out ;  and  through  them  rose  the  spire  of  Jecha- 
burg,  still  bearing  the  name  of  the  Druid  divinity  there 
overthrown  by  the  apostle  Winfried.  But  there  was  an 
other  point  in  the  landscape  where  my  fancy  settled  —  the 
Trauenberg,  at  the  foot  of  which  was  fought  the  first  great 
ffunnenschlacht  (battle  of  the  Huns).  When  that  gallant 
emperor,  Henry  the  Bircl-Snarer,  sent  a  mangy  dog  to 
Hungary,  instead  of  the  usual  tribute,  he  knew  and  pre 
pared  for  the  consequences  of  his  act.  The  Huns  burst 
into  Germany  ;  he  met  and  defeated  them,  first  here,  and 


816  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

then  near  Merseburg  (A.  D.  933),  so  utterly  that  they 
never  again  attempted  invasion.  Kaulbach's  finest  cartoon 
represents  one  or  the  other  of  these  battles.  Those  fierce 
groups  of  warriors,  struggling  in  a  weird  atmosphere,  made 
the  airy  picture  which  I  saw.  One  involuntarily  tries  to 
vivify  history,  and  the  imagination  holds  fast  to  any  help. 

After  an  hour  and  a  half  among  the  hills,  I  saw  the 
Golden  Mead,  —  so  bright,  so  beautiful,  that  I  compre 
hended  the  love  which  the  German  emperors,  for  centuries, 
manifested  for  it.  I  looked  across  a  level  valley,  five  or 
six  miles  wide,  meadows  green  as  May  interrupting  the 
bands  of  autumnal  gold,  groves  and  winding  lines  of  trees 
marking  the  watercourses,  stately  towns  planted  at  inter 
vals,  broad,  ascending  slopes  of  forest  beyond,  and  the 
summit  of  the  Brocken  crowning  all.  East  and  west,  the 
Mead  faded  out  of  sight  in  shining  haze.  It  is  a  favored 
region.  Its  bounteous  soil  lies  low  and  warm,  sheltered 
by  the  llartz  ;  it  has  an  earlier  spring  and  a  later  sum 
mer  than  any  other  part  of  Northern  Germany.  This  I 
knew,  but  I  was  not  prepared  to  find  it,  also,  a  delight  to 
the  eye.  Towards  Nordhausen  the  green  was  dazzling, 
and  there  was  a  blaze  of  sunshine  upon  it  which  recalled 
the  plain  of  Damascus. 

At  Kelbra,  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  Kyff hiiuser,  though 
so  near  it ;  an  intervening  summit  hides  the  tower.  On 
the  nearest  headland  of  the  range,  however,  there  is  a 
ruined  castle  called  the  Rothenburg,  which  has  no  history 
worth  repeating,  but  is  always  visited  by  the  few  who  find 
their  way  hither.  I  procured  a  small  boy  as  guide,  and 
commenced  my  proper  pilgrimage  on  foot.  An  avenue  of 
cherry-trees  gave  but  scanty  shade  from  the  fierce  sun, 
while  crossing  the  level  of  the  Golden  Mead ;  but,  on 
reaching  the  mountain,  I  found  a  path  buried  in  forests. 
It  was  steep,  and  hard  to  climb  ;  and  I  soon  found  reason 
for  congratulation  in  the  fact  that  the  summit  has  an  alti 
tude  of  only  fifteen  hundred  feet.  It  was  attained  at  last ; 


THE    KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  817 

the  woods,  which  had  been  nearly  impenetrable,  ceased, 
and  I  found  myself  in  front  of  a  curious  cottage,  with  a 
thatched  roof,  built  against  the  foot  of  a  tall  round  tower 
of  other  days.  There  were  benches  and  tables  under  the 
adjoining  trees ;  and  a  solid  figure,  with  a  great  white 
beard,  was  moving  about  in  a  semi-subterranean  apartment, 
inserted  among  the  foundations  of  the  castle. 

Had  it  been  the  Kyff  hiiuser,  I  should  have  taken  him 
for  Barbarossa.  The  face  reminded  me  of  Walt  Whitman, 
and,  verily,  the  man  proved  to  be  a  poet.  I  soon  discov 
ered  the  fact ;  and  when  he  had  given  us  bread  and  beer, 
he  brought  forth,  for  my  purchase,  the  third  edition  of 
<;  Poems  by  the  Hermit  of  the  Rothenburg,"  publiiiied  by 
Brockhaus,  Leipzig.  His  name  is  Friedrich  Beyer.  His 
parents  kept  an  inn  on  ground  which  became  the  battle 
field  of  Jena,  three  or  four  years  after  he  was  born  His 
first  recollection  is  of  cannon,  fire,  and  pillage.  This  is  all 
that  I  learned  of  his  history;  his  face  suggests  a  great  deal 
more.  The  traces  of  old  passions,  ambitions,  struggles, 
and  disappointments  have  grown  faint  from  the  exercise  of 
a  cheerful  philosophy.  He  is  proud  to  be  called  a  poet,  yet 
serves  refreshments  with  as  much  alacrity  as  any  ordinary 
keflner. 

After  a  time  he  brought  an  album,  saying  :  "  I  keep  this 
for  such  poets  as  happen  to  come,  but  there  are  only  two 
names,  perhaps,  that  you  have  ever  heard  —  Ludwig  Storch 
and  Miiller  von  der  Werra.  Uhland  was  once  in  the  Hartz, 
but  he  never  came  here.  Riickert  and  a  great  many  others 
have  written  about  the  Kyffhauser  and  Barbarossa;  but 
the  poets,  you  know,  depend  on  their  fancies,  rather  than 
on  what  they  see.  I  can't  go  about  and  visit  them,  so  I 
can  only  become  acquainted  with  the  few  who  travel  this 
way." 

He  then  took  an  immense  tin  speaking-trumpet,  stationed 
himself  on  a  rock,  pointed  the  trumpet  at  an  opposite  ridge 
of  the  mountain,  and  bellowed  forth  four  notes  which 


818  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

sounded  like  the  voice  of  a  dying  bull.  But,  after  a  pause 
of  silence,  angels  replied.  Tones  of  supernatural  sweet 
ness  filled  the  distant  air,  fading  slowly  upwards,  until  the 
blue,  which  seemed  to  vibrate  like  a  string  that  has  been 
struck,  trembled  into  quiet  again.  It  was  wonderful !  I 
have  heard  many  echoes,  but  no  other  which  so  marvel- 
ously  translates  the  sounds  of  earth  into  the  language  of 
heaven.  "  Do  you  notice,"  said  the  poet,  "  how  one  tone 
grows  out  of  the  others,  and  silences  them  ?  Whatever 
sound  I  make,  that  same  tone  is  produced  —  not  at  first, 
but  it  comes  presently  from  somewhere  else,  and  makes  it 
self  heard.  I  call  it  reconciliation  —  atonement;  the  prin 
ciple  »  which  all  human  experience  must  terminate.  You 
will  find  a  poem  about  it  in  my  book." 

The  Rothenburg  has  been  a  ruin  for  about  three  hundred 
years.  It  was  a  small  castle,  but  of  much  more  elegant 
and  symmetrical  architecture  than  most  of  its  crumbling 
brethren.  The  trees  which  have  grown  up  in  court-yard 
and  hall  have  here  and  there  overthrown  portions  of  the 
walls,  but  a  number  of  handsome  Gothic  portals  and  win 
dows  remain.  The  round  tower  appears  to  have  belonged 
to  a  much  earlier  structure.  The  present  picturesque 
beauty  of  the  place  compensates  for  the  lack  of  history  and 
tradition.  Its  position  is  such  that  it  overlooks  nearly  the 
whole  extent  of  the  Golden  Mead  and  the  southern  slope 
of  the  Hartz  —  a  hemisphere  of  gold  and  azure  at  the  time 
of  my  visit.  It  was  a  day  which  had  strayed  into  Septem 
ber  out  of  midsummer.  Intense,  breathless  heat  filled  the 
earth  and  sky,  and  there  was  scarcely  a  wave  of  air,  even 
upon  that  summit. 

The  Kyffhauser  is  two  or  three  miles  further  eastward, 
upon  the  last  headland  of  the  range,  in  that  direction. 
The  road  connecting  the  two  castles  runs  along  the  crest, 
through  forests  of  the  German  oak,  as  is  most  fit.  Taking 
leave  of  the  poet,  and  with  his  volume  in  my  pack,  I  plod 
ded  forward  in  the  shade,  attended  by  *»  spirits  twain,"  in- 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  319 

visible  to  ray  young  guide.  Poetry  walked  on  my  right 
hand,  Tradition  on  my  left.  History  respectfully  declined 
to  join  the  party  ;  the  dim,  vapory,  dreamful  atmosphere 
did  not  suit  her.  Besides,  in  regard  to  the  two  points  con 
cerning  which  I  desired  to  be  enlightened  she  could  have 
given  me  little  assistance.  Why  was  the  dead  Barbarossa 
supposed  to  be  enchanted  in  a  vault  under  the  Kyff  hiiuscr, 
a  castle  which  he  had  never  made  his  residence  ?  Fifteen 
years  ago,  at  the  foot  of  the  Taurus,  in  Asia  Minor,  I  had 
stood  on  the  banks  of  the  river  in  which  he  was  drowned; 
and  in  Tyre  I  saw  the  chapel  in  which,  according  to  such 
history  as  we  possess,  his  body  was  laid.  Then,  why  should 
he,  of  all  the  German  emperors,  be  chosen  as  the  symbol 
of  a  political  resurrection  ?  He  defied  the  power  of  the 
popes,  and  was  placed  under  the  ban  of  the  Church ;  he 
gained  some  battles  and  lost  others ;  he  commenced  a 
crusade,  but  never  returned  from  it ;  he  did  something 
towards  the  creation  of  a  middle  class,  but  in  advance  of 
the  time  when  such  a  work  could  have  been  appreciated. 
He  was  evidently  a  man  of  genius  and  energy,  of  a  noble 
personal  presence,  and  probably  possessed  that  individual 
magnetism,  the  effect  of  which  survives  so  long  among  the 
people  ;  yet  all  these  things  did  not  seem  to  constitute  a 
sufficient  explanation. 

The  popularity  of  the  Barbarossa  legend,  however,  is  not 
to  be  ascribed  to  anything  in  the  Emperor's  history.  In 
whatever  way  it  may  have  been  created,  it  soon  became 
the  most  picturesque  expression  of  the  dream  of  German 
unity  —  a  dream  to  which  the  people  held  fast,  while  the 
princes  were  doing  their  best  to  make  its  fulfillment  impos 
sible.  Barbarossa  was  not  the  first,  nor  the  last,  nor  the 
best  of  the  great  Emperors;  but  the  legend,  ever  willful  in 
its  nature,  fastened  upon  him,  and  Art  and  Literature  are 
forced  to  accept  what  they  find  already  accepted  by  the 
people.  This  seemed  to  me,  then,  to  be  the  natural  ex 
planation,  and  I  am  glad  to  find  it  confirmed  in  the  main 


320  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

points  by  one  of  the  best  living  writers  of  Germany.  The 
substance  of  the  popular  tradition  is  embodied  in  this  little 
song  of  Riickert :  — r 

"  The  Ancient  Barbarossa, 

Friedrich,  the  Kaiser  great, 
Within  the  castle-cavern 
Sits  in  enchanted  state. 

"  He  did  not  die ;  but  ever 

Waits  in  the  chamber  deep, 
Where,  hidden  under  the  castle, 
He  sat  himself,  to  sleep. 

"  The  splendor  of  the  Empire 

He  took  with  him  away, 
And  back  to  earth  will  bring  it 
When  dawns  the  chosen  day. 

"  The  chair  is  ivory  purest 

Whereof  he  makes  his  bed; 
The  table  is  of  marble 

Whereon  he  props  his  head. 

"  His  beard,  not  flax,  but  burning 
With  lierce  and  h'ery  glow, 
Right  through  the  marble  table 
Beneath  his  chin  doth  grow. 

"  He  nods  in  dreams,  and  winketh 

With  dull,  half-open  eye, 

And,  once  an  age,  he  beckons 

A  page  that  standeth  by. 

"  He  bids  the  boy  in  slumber: 

1  0  dwarf,  go  up  this  hour, 
And  see  if  still  the  ravens 

Are  flying  round  the  tower. 

"  '  And  if  the  ancient  ravens 

Still  wheel  above  me  here, 
Then  must  I  sleep  enchanted 
For  many  a  hundred  year.'  " 

Half-way  from  the  Rothenburg,  after  passing  a  curious 


THE   KYFFHAUSER    AND   ITS    LEGENDS.  321 

pyramid  of  petrified  wood,  I  caught  sight  of  the  tower  of 
the  Kyffhauser,  a  square  dark-red  mass,  looming  over  the 
oak  woods.  The  path  dwindled  to  a  rjude  forest  road,  and 
the  crest  of  the  mountain,  on  the  left,  hid  from  view  the 
glimmering  level  of  the  Golden  Mead.  I  saw  nothing  but 
the  wooded  heights  on  the  right,  until,  after  climhing  a 
space,  I  found  myself  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  angular 
mounds  of  buried  masonry.  The  "  Kaiser  Friedrich's 
tower,"  eighty  feet  high  and  about  thirty  feet  square,  ap 
peared  to  be  all  that  remained  of  the  castle.  But  the  ex 
tensive  mounds  over  which  I  stumbled  were  evidently 
formed  from  the  debris  of  roofs  and  walls,  and  something 
in  their  arrangement  suggested  the  existence  of  vaults 
under  them.  The  summit  of  the  mountain,  four  or  five 
hundred  feet  in  length,  is  entirely  covered  with  the  ruins. 
A  cottage  in  the  midst,  occupied  by  three  wild  women,  is 
built  over  an  ancient  gateway,  the  level  of  which  is  con 
siderably  below  the  mounds  ;  and  I  felt  sure,  although  <he 
women  denied  it,  that  there  must  be  subterranean  cham 
bers.  They  permitted  me,  in  consideration  of  the  pay 
ment  of  three  cents,  to  look  through  a  glass  in  the  wall, 
and  behold  a  hideous  picture  of  the  sleeping  Emperor. 
Like  Macbeth's  witches,  they  cried  in  chorus :  — 

"  Show !  show ! 

Show  his  eyes  and  grieve  his  heart; 
Take  his  money,  and  let  him  depart !  " 

That,  and  a  bottle  of  bad  beer,  which  my  small  boy 
drank  with  extraordinary  facility,  was  all  the  service  they 
were  willing  to  render  me.  But  the  storied  peak  was  de 
serted  ;  the  vast  ring  of  landscape  basked  in  the  splendid 
day ;  the  ravens  were  flying  around  the  tower ;  and  there 
were  seats  at  various  points  where  I  could  rest  at  will  and 
undisturbed.  The  Kyffhauser  was  so  lonely  that  its 
gnomes  might  have  allowed  the  wonder-flower  to  grow  for 
me,  and  have  opened  their  vaults  without  the  chance  of  a 

21 


322  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

profane  foot  following.  I  first  sketched  the  tower,  to  sat 
isfy  Duty ;  and  then  gave  myself  up  to  the  guidance  of 
Fancy,  whose  face,  on  this  occasion  was  not  to  be  distin 
guished  from  that  of  Indolence.  There  was  not  a  great 
deal  to  see,  and  no  discoveries  to  make  ;  but  the  position 
of  the  castle  was  so  lordly,  the  view  of  the  Golden  Mead  so 
broad  and  beautiful,  that  I  could  have  asked  nothing  more. 
I  remembered,  as  I  looked  down,  the  meadows  of  Tarsus, 
and  pictured  to  myself,  in  the  haze  beyond  the  Brocken, 
the  snowy  summits  of  the  Taurus.  "  What  avails  the  truth 
of  history  ?  "  I  reflected  ;  "  I  know  that  Barbarossa  never 
lived  here,  yet  I  cannot  banish  his  shadowy  figure  from  my 
thoughts.  Nay,  I  find  myself  on  the  point  of  believing  the 
legend." 

The  word  "  Kyff  hauser  "  means,  simply,  "  houses  on  the 
peak "  (kippe  or  kuppe).  The  people,  however,  have  a 
derivation  of  their  own.  They  say  that,  after  Julius  Caesar 
ha*l  conquered  the  Thuringian  land,  he  built  a  castle  for 
his  praetor  on  this  mountain,  and  called  it  Confusio,  to 
signify  the  state  to  which  he  had  reduced  the  ancient  mon 
archy.  Long  afterwards,  they  add,  a  stag  was  found  in  the 
forest,  with  a  golden  collar  around  its  neck,  on  which  were 
the  words  :  "  Let  no  one  hurt  me  ;  Julius  gave  me  my 
liberty."  The  date  of  the  foundation  of  the  castle  cannot 
be  determined.  It  was  probably  a  residence,  alternately, 
of  the  Thuringians  and  Franks,  in  the  early  Christian  cen 
turies  ;  the  German  emperors  afterwards  occasionally  in 
habited  it ;  but  it  was  ruined  in  the  year  1189,  just  before 
the  departure  of  Barbarossa  for  the  Orient.  Afterwards 
rebuilt,  it  appears  to  have  been  finally  overthrown  and  de 
serted  in  the  fourteenth  century.  It  is  a  very  slender  his 
tory  which  I  have  to  relate ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  History 
did  not  accompany  me  on  the  pilgrimage. 

The  Saga,  however,  —  whose  word  is  often  as  good  as 
the  written  record,  —  had  a  great  deal  to  say.  She  told 
me,  first,  that  the  images  and  ideas  of  a  religion  live  among 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  823 

the  people  for  ages  after  the  creed  is  overthrown  ;  that  the 
half  of  a  faith  is  simply  transferred,  not  changed.  Here  is 
the  thread  by  which  the  legend  of  the  Kyff  hiiuser  may  be 
unraveled.  The  gods  of  the  old  Scandinavian  and  Teutonic 
mythology  retreated  into  the  heart  of  certain  sacred  moun 
tains  during  the  winter,  and  there  remained  until  the 
leaves  began  to  put  forth  in  the  forests,  when  the  people 
celebrated  their  reappearance  by  a  spring  festival,  the 
Druid  Pentecost.  When  Christianity  was  forced  upon  the 
land,  and  the  names  of  the  gods  were  prohibited,  the  prom 
inent  chiefs  and  rulers  took  their  place.  Charlemagne  sat 
with  his  paladins  in  the  Untersberg,  near  Salzburg,  under 
the  fortress  of  Nuremberg,  and  in  various  other  mountains. 
Two  centuries  later,  Otto  the  Great  was,  in  like  manner, 
invested  with  a  subterranean  court ;  then,  after  an  equal 
space  of  time,  came  Barbarossa's  turn.  Gustav  Freytag,1 
to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  some  interesting  information  on 
this  point,  read  to  me,  from  a  Latin  chronicle  of  the  year 
1050,  the  following  passage:  "This  year  there  was  great 
excitement  among  the  people,  from  the  report  that  a  ruler 
would  come  forth  and  lead  them  to  war.  Many  believed 
that  it  would  be  Charlemagne  ;  but  many  also  believed 
that  it  would  be  another,  whose  name  cannot  be  men 
tioned."  This  other  was  Wuotan  (Odin),  whose  name  the 
people  whispered  three  centuries  after  they  had  renounced 
his  worship. 

This  explanation  fits  every  particular  of  the  legend. 
The  Teutonic  tribes  always  commenced  their  wars  in  the 
spring,  after  the  return  of  the  gods  to  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  The  ravens  flying  around  the  tower  are  the  well- 
known  birds  of  Odin.  When  Barbarossa  comes  forth,  he 
will  first  hang  his  shield  on  the  barren  tree,  which  will 
then  burst  into  leaf.  The  mediaeval  legend  sprang  natu 
rally  from  the  grave  of  the  dead  religion.  Afterwards,  — 

l  The  well-known  author  of  Debit  and  Credit,  and  Pictures  of  the  German 
PfisL 


324  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

probably  during  the  terrible  depression  which  followed  the 
Thirty  Years'  War,  —  another  transfer  took  place.  The 
gods  were  at  last  forgotten  ;  but  the  aspirations  of  the  peo 
ple,  connecting  Past  and  Future,  found  a  new  meaning  in 
the  story,  which  the  poets,  giving  it  back  to  them  in  a  glo 
rified  form,  fixed  forever. 

We  have  only  two  things  to  assume,  and  they  will  give 
us  little  trouble.  The  Kyffhauser  must  have  been  one  of 
those  sacred  mountains  of  the  Teutons  in  which  the  gods 
took  up  their  winter  habitation.  Its  character  corresponds 
v/ith  that  of  other  mountains  which  were  thus  selected.  It 
is  a  projecting  headland,  partly  isolated  from  the  rest  of 
the  range,  —  like  Tabor,  "  a  mountain  apart."  This  would 
account  for  the  location  of  the  legend.  The  choice  of 
Barbarossa  may  be  explained  partly  by  the  impression 
which  his  personal  presence  and  character  made  upon  the 
people  (an  effect  totally  independent  of  his  place  in  his 
tory),  and  partly  from  the  circumstance,  mysterious  to 
them,  that  he  went  to  the  Holy  Land,  an:l  never  returned. 
Although  they  called  him  the  "  Heretic  Emperor,"  on  ac 
count  of  his  quarrel  with  the  Pope,  this  does  not  appear  to 
have  diminished  the  power  of  his  name  among  them.  The 
first  form  of  the  legend,  as  we  find  it  in  a  fragment  of 
poetry  from  the  fourteenth  century,  says  that  he  disap 
peared,  but  is  not  dead  ;  that  hunters  or  peasants  some 
times  meet  him  as  a  pilgrim,  whereupon  he  discovers  him 
self  to  them,  saying  that  he  will  yet  punish  the  priests,  and 
restore  the  Holy  Roman  Empire.  A  history,  published  in 
the  year  1519,  says  :  "  He  was  a  man  of  great  deeds,  mar- 
velously  courageous,  lovable,  severe,  and  with  the  gift  of 
speech,  —  renowned  in  many  things  as  was  no  one  before 
him  save  Carol  us  the  Great,  —  and  is  at  last  lost,  so  that 
no  man  knows  what  is  become  of  him." 

I  know  not  where  to  look  for  another  tradition  made  up 
of  such  picturesque  elements.  Although  it  may  be  told  in 
a  few  words,  it  contains  the  quintessence  of  the  history  of 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  325 

two  thousand  years.  Based  on  the  grand  Northern  my 
thology,  we  read  in  it  the  foundation  of  Christianity,  the 
Crusades,  that  hatred  of  priestcraft  which  made  the  Refor 
mation  possible,  the  crumbling  to  pieces  of  the  old  German 
Kmpire,  and  finally  that  passionate  longing  of  the  race 
which  is  now  conducting  it  to  a  new  national  unity  and 
power.  For  twenty  years  the  Germans  have  been  collect 
ing  funds  to  raise  a  monument  to  Herrmann,  the  Cheru- 
skian  chief,  the  destroyer  of  Yarns  and  his  legions  in  the 
Teutoburger  Forest;  yet  Germany,  after  all,  grew  great 
from  subjection  to  the  laws  and  learning  of  Rome.  The 
Kyff hiiuser  better  deserves  a  monument,  not  specially  to 
Barbarossa,  but  to  that  story  which  for  centuries  symbolized 
the  political  faith  of  the  people. 

The  local  traditions  which  have  grown  up  around  the 
national  one  are  very  numerous.  Some  have  been  trans 
planted  hither  from  other  places,  —  as,  for  instance,  that 
of  the  key-flower,  —  but  others,  very  naive  and  original, 
belong  exclusively  here.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  they 
may  also  be  found  in  other  lands  ;  the  recent  researches  in 
fairy  lore  teach  us  that  scarcely  anything  of  what  we  pos 
sess  is  new.  Here  is  one  which  suggests  some  passages 
in  Wieland's  "  Oberon." 

In  Tilledti,  a  village  at  the  foot  of  the  Kyffhauser,  some 
lads  and  lasses  were  met,  one  evening,  for  social  diversion. 
Among  them  was  a  girl  whom  they  were  accustomed  to 
make  the  butt  of  their  fun  —  whom  none  of  them  liked, 
although  she  was  honest  and  industrious.  By  a  secret 
understanding,  a  play  of  pawns  was  proposed  ;  and  when 
this  girl's  turn  came  to  redeem  hers,  she  was  ordered  to 
go  up  to  the  castle  and  bring  back  three  hairs  from  the 
sleeping  Emperor's  beard.  She  set  out  on  the  instant, 
while  the  others  made  themselves  merry  over  her  sim 
plicity.  To  their  great  surprise,  however,  she  returned  in 
an  hour,  bringing  with  her  three  hairs,  fiery-red  in  color 
and  of  astonishing  length.  She  related  that,  having  en- 


326  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

tered  the  subterranean  chambers,  she  was  conducted  by  a 
dwarf  to  the  Emperor's  presence,  where,  after  having 
drained  a  goblet  of  wine  to  his  health,  and  that  of  the 
Fran  Empress,  she  received  permission  to  pluck  three 
hairs  from  the  imperial  beard,  on  condition  that  she  would 
neither  give  them  away  nor  destroy  them.  She  faithfully 
kept  the  promise.  The  hairs  were  laid  away  among  her 
trinkets  ;  and  a  year  afterwards  she  found  them  changed 
into  rods  of  gold,  an  inch  in  diameter.  Of  course  the 
former  Cinderella  then  became  the  queen. 

There  are  several  stories,  somewhat  similar  in  character, 
of  which  musicians  or  piping  herdsmen  are  the  heroes. 
Now  it  is  a  company  of  singers  or  performers,  who,  passing 
the  KyfF hiiuser  late  at  night,  give  the  sleeping  Emperor  a 
serenade ;  now  it  is  a  shepherd,  who  saying-  to  himself, 
"  This  is  for  the  Kaiser  Friedrich  "  plays  a  simple  melody 
upon  his  flute.  In  each  case  an  entrance  opens  into  the 
mountain.  Either  a  princess  comes  forth  with  wine,  or  a 
page  conducts  the  musicians  into  the  Emperor's  presence. 
Sometimes  they  each  receive  a  green  bough  in  payment, 
sometimes  a  horse's  head,  a  stick,  or  a  bunch  of  flax.  All 
are  either  dissatisfied  with  their  presents,  or  grow  tired  of 
carrying  them,  and  throw  them  away,  —  except  one  (gener 
ally  the  poorest  and  silliest  of  the  company),  who  takes  his 
home  with  him  as  a  souvenir  of  the  adventure,  or  as  an 
ironical  present  to  his  wife,  and  finds  it,  next  morning, 
changed  into  solid  gold.  How  faithful  are  all  these  legends 
to  the  idea  of  compensation  !  It  is  always  the  poor,  the 
simple,  the  persecuted  to  whom  luck  comes. 

I  have  two  more  stories,  of  a  different  character,  to  re 
peat.  A  poor  laborer  in  Tilleda  had  an  only  daughter, 
who  was  betrothed  to  a  young  man  equally  poor,  but  good 
and  honest.  It  was  the  evening  before  the  wedding-day  ; 
the  guests  were  already  invited,  and  the  father  suddenly 
remembered  with  dismay  that  there  was  only  one  pot,  one 
dish,  and  two  plates  in  the  house.  "  What  shall  we  do  ?  " 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AMD   ITS   LEGENDS.  327 

lie  cried.  "  You  must  go  up  to  the  KyfFhiiuser,  and  ask 
the  Princess  to  lend  us  some  dishes."  Hand  in  hand  the 
lovers  climbed  the  mountain,  and  at  the  door  of  the  cavern 
found  the  Princess,  who  smiled  upon  them  as  they  came. 
They  made  their  request  timidly  and  with  fear ;  but  she 
bade  them  take  heart,  gave  them  to  eat  and  drink,  and 
filled  a  large  basket  with  dishes,  spoons,  and  everything 
necessary  for  a  wedding  feast.  When  they  returned  to  the 
village  with  their  burden,  it  was  day.  All  things  were 
strange ;  they  recognized  neither  house  nor  garden  :  the 
people  were  unknown  to  them,  and  wore  a  costume  they 
had  never  before  seen.  Full  of  distress  and  anxiety,  they 
sought  the  priest,  who,  after  hearing  their  story,  turned 
over  the  church-books,  and  found  that  they  had  been  ab 
sent  just  two  hundred  years. 

The  other  legend  is  that  of  Peter  Klaus,  the  source  from 
which  Irving  drew  his  Rip  Van  Winkle.  I  had  read  it 
before  (as  have,  no  doubt,  many  of  my  readers),  but  was 
not  acquainted  with  its  local  habitation  until  my  visit  to 
the  Kyff  hauser.  It  was  first  printed,  so  far  as  I  can  learn, 
in  a  collection  made  by  Otmar,  and  published  in  Bremen 
in  the  year  1800.  Given  in  the  briefest  outline,  it  is  as 
follows :  Peter  Klaus,  a  shepherd  of  Sittendorf,  pastured 
his  herd  on  the  Kyff  hauser,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  collect 
ing  the  animals  at  the  foot  of  an  old  ruined  wall.  He 
noticed  that  one  of  his  goats  regularly  disappeared  for 
some  hours  every  day  ;  and.  finding  that  she  went  into  an 
opening  between  two  of  the  stones,  he  followed  her.  She 
led  him  into  a  vault,  where  she  began  eating  grains  of  oats 
which  fell  from  the  ceiling.  Over  his  head  he  heard  the 
stamping  and  neighing  of  horses.  Presently  a  squire  in 
ancient  armor  appealed,  and  beckoned  to  him  without 
speaking.  He  was  led  up  stairs,  across  a  court-yard,  and 
into  an  open  space  in  the  mountain,  sunken  deep  between 
nocky  walls,  where  a  company  of  knights,  stern  and  silent 
were  playing  at  bowls.  Peter  Klaus  was  directed  by  ges- 


328  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

tures  to  set  up  the  pins,  which  he  did  in  mortal  fear,  until 
the  quality  of  a  can  of  wine,  placed  at  his  elbow,  stimulated 
his  courage.  Finally,  after  long  service  and  many  deep 
potations,  he  slept.  When  he  awoke,  he  found  himself 
lying  among  tall  weeds,  at  the  foot  of  the  ruined  wall. 
Herd  and  dog  had  disappeared ;  his  clothes  were  in  tatters, 
and  a  long  beard  hung  upon  his  breast.  He  wandered 
back  to  the  village,  seeking  his  goats,  and  marveling  that 
he  saw  none  but  strange  faces.  The  people  gathered 
around  him,  and  answered  his  questions,  but  each  name  he 
named  was  that  upon  a  stone  in  the  church-yard.  Finally, 
a  woman  who  seemed  to  be  his  wife  pressed  through  the 
crowd,  leading  a  wild-looking  boy,  and  with  a  baby  in  her 
arms.  "  What  is  your  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Maria." 

"And  your  father?" 

"  He  was  Peter  Klaus,  God  rest  his  soul !  who  went  up 
the  Kyffhauser  with  his  herd,  twenty  years  ago,  and  has 
never  been  seen  since." 

Irving  has  taken  almost  every  feature  of  his  story  from 
this  legend ;  but  his  happy  translation  of  it  to  the  Catskills. 
and  the  grace  and  humor  which  he  has  added  to  it,  have 
made  it  a  new  creation.  Peter  Klaus  is  simply  a  puppet  of 
the  people's  fancy,  but  Rip  Van  Winkle  has  an  immortal 
vitality  of  his  own.  Few,  however,  who  look  into  the  wild 
little  glen,  on  climbing  to  the  Catskill  Mountain  House, 
suspect  from  what  a  distance  was  wafted  the  thistle-down 
which  there  dropped  and  grew  into  a  new  plant,  with  the 
richest  flavor  and  color  of  the  soil.  Here,  on  the  Kyffhau 
ser,  I  find  the  stalk  whence  it  was  blown  by  some  fortunate 
wind. 

No  doubt  some  interesting  discoveries  might  be  made, 
if  the  ruins  were  cleared  and  explored.  At  the  eastern 
end  of  the  crest  are  the  remains  of  another  tower,  from 
which  I  detected  masses  of  masonry  rising  through  the 
oaks,  on  a  lower  platform  of  the  mountain.  The  three 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  329 

wild  women  informed  me  that  there  was  a  chapel  down 
there ;  but  my  small  boy  had  never  heard  of  it,  and  didn't 
know  the  way. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from,  boy  ?  "  the  woman  asked. 

«  From  Kelbra." 

"  O  !  ah  !  To  be  sure  you  don't  know !  The  Kelbra 
people  are  blockheads  and  asses,  every  one  of  'em.  They 
think  their  Rothenburg  is  everything,  when  the  good  Lord 
knows  that  the  Kaiser  Red-beard  never  lived  there  a  day 
of  his  life.  From  Kelbra,  indeed  !  It's  the  Tilleda  people 
that  know  how  to  guide  strangers ;  you've  made  a  nice 
mess  of  it,  Herr,  taking  a  Kelbra  boy ! " 

Perhaps  I  had  ;  but  it  wasn't  pleasant  to  be  told  of  it  in 
that  way.  So  I  took  my  boy,  said  farewell  to  Barbarossa's 
tower,  and  climbed  down  the  steep  of  slippery  grass  and 
stones  to  the  ruins  of  the  lower  castle.  The  scrubby  oaks 
and  alder  thickets  were  almost  impenetrable  ;  a  single  path 
wound  among  them,  leading  me  through  three  ancient 
gateways,  but  avoiding  several  chambers,  the  walls  of  which 
are  still  partially  standing.  However,  I  finally  reached  the 
chapel  —  a  structure  more  Byzantine  than  Gothic,  about 
fifty  feet  in  length.  It  stands  alone,  at  the  end  of  a  court 
yard,  and  is  less  ruined  than  any  other  part  of  the  castle. 
The  windows  remain,  and  a  great  part  of  the  semicircular 
chancel,  but  I  could  find  no  traces  of  sculpture.  The  floor 
had  been  dug  up  in  search  of  buried  treasure.  Looking 
through  an  aperture  in  the  wall,  I  saw  another  inclosure 
of  ruins  on  a  platform  further  below.  The  castle  of  Kyif- 
hiiuser,  then,  embraced  three  separate  stages  of  buildings, 
all  connected,  and  forming  a  pile  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
in  length.  Before  its  fall  it  must  have  been  one  of  the 
stateliest  fortresses  in  Germany. 

I  descended  the  mountain  in  the  fierce,  silent  heat  which 
made  it  seem  so  lonely,  so  far  removed  from  the  bright 
world  of  the  Golden  Mead.  There  were  no  flocks  on  the 
4ry  pasture-slopes,  no  farmers  in  the  stubble-fields  under 


330  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

them ;  and  the  village  of  Tillecla,  lying  under  my  eyes, 
bared  its  deserted  streets  to  the  sun.  There,  nevertheless, 
I  found  rest  and  refreshment  in  a  decent  inn.  My  desti 
nation  was  the  town  of  Artern,  on  the  Unstrut,  at  the  east 
ern  extremity  of  the  Golden  Mead ;  and  I  had  counted  on 
finding  a  horse  and  hay-cart,  at  least,  to  carry  me  over  the 
intervening  nine  or  ten  miles.  But  no ;  nothing  of  the 
kind  was  to  be  had  in  Tilleda  —  even  a  man  to  shoulder 
my  pack  was  an  unusual  fortune,  for  which  I  must  be  grate 
ful.  "  Wait  till  evening,"  said  the  landlady,  after  describing 
to  me  the  death  of  her  husband,  and  her  business  troubles, 
"  and  then  Hans  Meyer  will  go  with  you." 

The  story  being  that  the  family  of  Goethe  originally  came 
from  Artern,  and  that  some  of  its  members  were  still  living 
in  the  neighborhood,  I  commenced  my  inquiries  at  Tilleda. 

"  Is  there  anybody  of  the  name  of  Goethe  in  the  village  ?  " 
I  asked  the  landlady. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  there  's  the  blacksmith  Goethe,  but  I 
believe  he  's  the  only  one." 

The  poet's  great-grandfather  having  been  a  blacksmith, 
and  the  practice  of  a  certain  trade  or  profession  being  so 
frequently  hereditary  among  the  Germans,  T  did  not  doubt 
but  that  this  was  a  genuine  branch  of  the  family.  All  that 
the  landlady  could  say  of  the  man,  in  reply  to  my  questions, 
was,  "  He  's  only  a  blacksmith." 

The  sun  had  nearly  touched  the  tower  on  the  Kyff hiiuser 
when  Hans  Meyer  and  I  set  out  for  Artern  ;  but  the  fields 
still  glowed  with  heat,  and  the  far  blue  hills,  which  I  must 
reach,  seemed  to  grow  no  nearer,  as  I  plodded  painfully 
along  the  field-roads.  The  man  was  talkative  enough,  and 
his  singular  dialect  was  not  difficult  to  understand.  He 
knew  no  tradition  which  had  not  already  been  gathered, 
but,  like  a  genuine  farmer,  entertained  me  with  stories  of 
hail-storms,  early  and  late  frosts,  and  inundations.  He  was 
inveterately  wedded  to  old  fashions,  and  things  of  the  past, 
had  served  against  the  Republicans  in  1849,  and  not  a  glim- 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND    ITS   LEGENDS.  331 

mering  idea  of  the  present  national  movement  had  ever 
entered  his  mind.  I  had  heard  that  this  region  was  the 
home  of  conservative  land-owners,  and  ignorant  peasants 
who  believe  in  them,  but  I  am  not  willing  to  take  Hans 
Meyer  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  people. 

It  is  wearisome  to  tell  of  a  weary  journey,  The  richest 
fields  may  be  monotonous,  and  the  sweetest  pastoral  scenery 
become  tame,  without  change.  I  looked  over  the  floor  of 
the  Golden  Mead,  with  ardent  longing  towards  the  spire  of 
Artern  in  the  east,  and  with  a  faint  interest  towards  the 
castle  of  Sachsenberg,  in  the  south,  perched  above  a  gorge 
through  which  the  Unstrut  breaks  its  way.  The  sun  went 
down  in  a  splendor  of  color,  the  moon  came  up  like  a 
bronze  shield,  grain-wagons  rolled  homewards,  men  and 
women  flocked  into  the  villages,  with  rakes  and  forks  on 
their  shoulders,  and  a  cool  dusk  slowly  settled  over  the 
great  plain.  Hans  Meyer  was  silent  at  last,  and  I  was  in 
that  condition  of  tense  endurance  when  an  unnecessary  re 
mark  is  almost  as  bad  as  an  insult ;  and  so  we  went  over 
the  remaining  miles,  entering  the  gates  of  Artern  by  moon 
light. 

The  first  thing  I  did  in  the  morning,  was  to  recommence 
my  inquiries  in  regard  to  Goethe.  "  Yes,"  said  the  land 
lord,  "his  stammhaus  (ancestral  house)  is  here,  but  the 
family  don't  live  in  it  any  longer.  If  you  want  to  see  it, 
one  of  the  boys  shall  go  with  you.  There  was  formerly  a 
smithy  in  it ;  but  the  smiths  of  the  family  left,  and  then  it 
was  changed." 

O 

I  followed  the  boy  through  the  long,  roughly-paved  main 
street,  until  we  had  nearly  reached  the  western  end  of  the 
town,  when  he  stopped  before  an  old  yellow  house,  two 
stories  high,  with  a  steep  tiled  roof.  Its  age,  I  should 
guess,  was  between  two  and  three  hundred  years.  The 
street-front,  above  the  ground  floor,  —  which,  having  an 
arched  entrance  and  only  one  small  window,  must  have 
been  the  former  smithy,  —  showed  its  framework  of  timber, 


332  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

as  one  sees  in  all  old  German  houses.  Before  the  closely 
ranged  windows  of  the  second  story  there  were  shelves  with 
pots  of  gilliflowers  and  carnations  in  blossom.  It  was  a 
genuine  mechanic's  house,  with  no  peculiar  feature  to  dis 
tinguish  it  particularly  from  the  others  in  the  street.  A 
thin-faced  man,  with  sharp  black  mustache,  looked  out  of 
one  of  the  windows,  and  spoke  to  the  boy,  who  asked 
whether  I  wished  to  enter.  But  as  there  was  really  nothing 
to  be  seen,  I  declined. 

According  to  the  chronicles  of  Artern,  the  great-grand 
father  Goethe,  the  blacksmith,  had  a  son  who  was  appren 
ticed  to  a  tailor,  and  who,  during  his  wanderschaft,  sojourned 
awhile  in  Frankfort-on-the-Main.  He  there  captivated  the 
fancy  of  a  rich  widow,  the  proprietress  of  the  Willow-Bush 
Hotel  (the  present  "  Hotel  Union"),  and  married  her,  —  or 
she  married  him,  —  a  fact  which  presupposes  good  looks, 
or  talents,  or  both,  on  his  part.  His  son,  properly  edu 
cated,  became  in  time  the  Councillor  Goethe,  who  begat 
the  poet.  The  latter,  it  is  said,  denied  that  the  tailor  was 
his  grandfather,  whence  it  is  probable  that  an  additional 
generation  must  be  interpolated ;  but  the  original  black 
smith  has  been  accepted,  I  believe,  by  the  most  of  Goethe's 
biographers.  A  generation,  more  or  less,  makes  no  differ 
ence.  Goethe's  ancestry,  like  that  of  Shakespeare,  lay  in 
the  ranks  of  the  people,  and  their  strong  blood  ran  in  the 
veins  of  both. 

No  author  ever  studied  himself  with  such  a  serene,  ob 
jective  coolness  as  Goethe ;  but  when  he  speaks  to  the 
world,  one  always  feels  that  there  is  a  slight  flavor  of  dich- 
tung  infused  into  his  wahrheit.  Or  perhaps,  with  the  arro 
gance  natural  to  every  great  intellect,  he  reasoned  outward, 
and  assumed  material  from  spiritual  facts.  Fiction  being 
only  Truth  seen  through  a  different  medium,  the  poet  who 
can  withdraw  far  enough  from  his  own  nature  to  contem 
plate  it  as  an  artistic  study,  works  under  a  different  law 
from  that  of  the  autobiographer.  So  when  Goethe  illus- 


THE   KYFFHAUSER   AND   ITS   LEGENDS.  383 

trates  himself,  we  must  not  always  look  closely  for  facts. 
The  only  instance,  which  I  can  recall  at  this  moment, 
wherein  he  speaks  of  his  ancestors,  is  the  poetical  frag 
ment:  — 

"  Stature  from  father,  and  the  mood 

Stern  views  of  life  compelling; 
From  mother  I  take  the  joyous  heart, 

And  the  love  of  story-telling; 
Great-grandsire's  passion  was  the  fair  — 

What  if  I  still  reveal  it? 
Great-grandam's  was  pomp,  and  gold,  and  show, 

And  in  my  bones  I  feel  it." 

It  is  quite  as  possible,  here,  that  Goethe  deduced  the 
character  of  his  ancestors  from  his  own,  as  that  he  sought 
an  explanation  of  the  latter  in  their  peculiarities.  The 
great-gran dsire  may  have  been  Textor,  of  his  mother's 
line  ;  it  is  not  likely  that  he  knew  much  of  his  father's 
family-tree.  The  burghers  of  Frankfurt  were  as  proud,  in 
their  day,  as  the  nobility  of  other  lands ;  and  Goethe,  at 
least  in  his  tastes  and  habits,  was  a  natural  aristocrat.  It 
is  not  known  that  he  ever  visited  Artern. 

Concerning  the  other  members  of  the  original  family,  the 
landlord  said  :  "  Not  one  of  them  lives  here  now.  The  last 
Goethe  in  the  neighborhood  was  a  farmer,  who  had  a  lease 
of  the  scharfrichterei  "  (an  isolated  property,  set  apart  for 
the  use  of  the  government  executioner),  "  but  he  left  here 
some  six  or  eight  years  ago,  and  emigrated  to  America." 
'•  Was  he  the  executioner  ?  "  I  asked.  "  O,  by  no  means  !  " 
the  landlord  answered  ;  "  he  only  leased  the  farm  ;  but  it 
was  not  a  comfortable  place  to  live  upon,  and,  besides,  he 
didn't  succeed  very  well."  So  the  blacksmith  in  Tilleda 
and  the  American  Goethe  are  the  only  representatives  left. 
What  if  a  great  poet  for  our  hemisphere  should,  in  time, 
spring  from  the  loins  of  the  latter? 

I  ordered  a  horse  and  carriage  with  no  compunctions  of 
conscience,  for  I  was  really  unable  to  make  a  second  day's 
journey  on  foot.  The  golden  weather  had  lasted  just  long 


334  BY-WAYS   OF  EUEOPE. 

enough  to  complete  my  legendary  pilgrimage.  The  morn 
ing  at  Artern  came  on  with  cloud  and  distant  gray  sweeps 
of  rain,  which  soon  blotted  out  the  dim  headland  of  the 
Kyffha'user.  1  followed  the  course  of  the  Unstrut,  which 
here  reaches  the  northern  limit  of  his  wanderings,  and 
winds  southward  to  seek  the  Saale.  The  valley  of  the  river 
is  as  beautiful  as  it  is  secluded,  and  every  hour  brings  a 
fresh  historical  field  to  the  traveller.  No  highway  enters 
it ;  only  rude  country  roads  lead  from  village  to  village,  and 
rude  inns  supply  plain  cheer.  Tourists  are  here  an  unknown 
variety  of  the  human  race. 

I  passed  the  ruins  of  Castle  Wendelstein,  battered  during 
the  Thirty  Years'  War,  —  a  manufactory  of  beet-sugar  now 
peacefully  smokes  in  the  midst  of  its  gray  vaults  and  but 
tresses,  —  and  then  Memleben,  where  Henry  the  Bird. 
Snarer  lived  when  he  was  elected  Emperor,  and  Otto  IT. 
founded  a  grand  monastery.  Other  ruins  and  ancient 
battle-fields  followed,  and  finally  Nebra,  where,  in  531,  the 
Thuringians  fought  with  the  Franks  three  days,  and  lost 
their  kingdom.  On  entering  Nebra,  I  passed  an  inn  with 
the  curious  sign  of  "Care"  (Sorge),  —  represented  by  a 
man  with  a  most  dismal  face,  and  his  head  resting  hope 
lessly  upon  his  hand.  An  inn  of  evilest  omen ;  and,  as 
suredly,  I  did  not  stop  there. 

Further  down  the  valley,  green  vineyards  took  the  place 
of  the  oak  forests,  and  the  landscapes  resembled  those  of 
the  Main  and  the  Neckar.  There  were  still  towns,  and 
ruined  castles,  and  battle-fields,  but  I  will  not  ask  the 
reader  to  explore  the  labyrinthine  paths  of  German  history. 
The  atmosphere  of  the  legend  had  faded,  and  I  looked  with 
an  indifferent  eye  on  the  storied  scenes  which  the  windings 
of  the  river  unfolded.  At  sunset,  I  saw  it  pour  its  waters 
into  those  of  the  Saale,  not  far  from  the  railway  station  of 
Naumburg,  where  I  came  back  to  the  highways  of  travel. 


A  WEEK   ON   CAPRI. 


LOOKING  seaward  from  Naples,  the  island  of  Capri  lies 
across  the  throat  of  the  bay  like  a  vast  natural  breakwater, 
grand  in  all  its  proportions,  and  marvelously  picturesque  in 
outline.  The  fancy  is  at  once  excited,  and  seeks  to  find 
some  definite  figure  therein.  Long  ago,  an  English  traveller 
compared  it  to  a  couch  ant  lion  ;  Jean  Paul,  on  the  strength 
of  some  picture  he  had  seen,  pronounced  it  to  be  a  sphinx  ; 
while  Gregorovius,  most  imaginative  of  all,  finds  that  it  is 
"  an  antique  sarcophagus,  with  bas-reliefs  of  snaky-haired 
Eumenides,  and  the  figure  of  Tiberius  lying  upon  it." 

Capri  is  not  strictly  a  by-way  of  travel,  inasmuch  as  most 
of  the  tourists  who  come  to  Naples  take  the  little  bay- 
steamer,  visit  the  Blue  Grotto,  touch  an  hour  at  the  marina, 
or  landing-place,  and  return  the  same  evening  via  Sorrento. 
But  this  is  like  reading  a  title-page,  instead  of  the  volume 
behind  it.  The  few  who  climb  the  rock,  and  set  themselves 
quietly  down  to  study  the  life  and  scenery  of  the  island,  find 
an  entire  poem,  to  which  no  element  of  beauty  or  interest 
is  wanting,  opened  for  their  perusal.  Like  Venice,  Capri  is 
a  permanent  island  in  the  traveller's  experience  —  detached 
from  the  mainland  of  Italian  character  and  associations.  It 
is  not  a  grand  dramatic  epic,  to  which  light  waves  keep  time, 
tinkling  on  the  marble  steps  ;  but  a  bright,  breezy  pastoral 
of  the  sea,  with  a  hollow,  rumbling  undertone  of  the  Past, 
like  that  of  the  billows  in  its  caverns.  Venice  has  her 
generations,  her  ages  of  heroic  forms :  here  one  sole  figure, 
supremely  fierce  and  abominable,  usurps  the  historic  back 
ground.  Not  only  that :  its  shadow  is  projected  over  the 
life  of  the  island,  now  and  for  all  time  to  come.  Here* 
where  Nature  has  placed  terror  and  beauty  side  by  side* 

22 


338  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

the  tragedy  of  one  man  is  inextricably  blended  with  the 
idyllic  annals  of  a  simple,  innocent  people.  To  feel  this, 
one  must  live  a  little  while  on  Capri. 

It  was  nearly  the  end  of  January,  when  Antonio,  our  boat 
man,  announced  that  we  had  the  "  one  day  out  of  a  dozen,'' 
for  crossing  the  ten  miles  of  sea  between  Sorrento  and  the 
island.  I  had  my  doubts,  placing  my  own  weather-instinct 
against  the  boatman's  need  of  making  a  good  fare  in  a  dull 
season  ;  but  we  embarked,  nevertheless.  The  ripple  of  a 
sirocco  could  even  then  be  seen  far  out  on  the  bay,  and  a 
cloudy  wall  of  rain  seemed  to  be  rising  from  the  sea.  "  Non 
c'e  paura"  said  the  sailors  ;  "  we  have  a  god-mother  at  the 
marina  of  Capri,  and  we  are  going  to  burn  a  lamp  for  her 
to-night.  She  will  give  us  good  weather."  They  pulled 
gayly,  and  we  soon  passed  the  headland  of  Sorrento,  beyond 
which  the  mouth  of  the  Bay  of  Naples  opened  broadly  to 
view.  Across  the  water,  Ischia  was  already  dim  with  rain  ; 
and  right  in  front  towered  Capri,  huge,  threatening,  and  to 
the  eye  inaccessible  but  for  the  faint  glimmer  of  houses  at 
the  landing-place. 

Here  we  met  the  heavy  swell  rolling  in  from  the  sea. 
The  men  bent  to  their  oars,  with  cries  of  "  Hal-li  !  mac- 
cheroni  a  Capri ! "  The  spray  of  the  coming  rain  struck 
us,  but  it  was  light  and  warm.  Antonio  set  the  sail,  and  we 
steered  directly  across  the  strait,  the  sky  becoming  darker 
and  wilder  every  minute.  The  bold  Cape  of  Minerva,  with 
its  Odyssean  memories,  and  the  Leap  of  Tiberius,  on  Capri? 
were  the  dim  landmarks  by  which  we  set  our  course.  It 
was  nearly  two  hours  before  we  came  to  windward  of  the 
latter,  and  I  said  to  Antonio  :  "  It  is  one  day  out  of  a  dozen 
for  cold  and  wet."  He  was  silent,  and  made  an  attempt  to 
look  melancholy.  However,  the  rocks  already  overhung  us  ; 
in  front  was  a  great  curving  sweep  of  gardens,  mounting 
higher  and  ever  higher  in  the  twilight ;  and  the  only  boat 
we  had  seen  on  the  deserted  bay  drew  in  towards  us,  and 
made  for  the  roadstead. 


A   WEEK   ON   CAPRI.  339 

The  row  of  fishermen's  houses  on  the  beach  beckoned 
welcome  after  the  dreary  voyage.  At  first  I  saw  no  human 
being,  but  presently  some  women  and  children  appeared, 
hurrying  to  the  strand.  A  few  more  lifts  on  the  dying 
swell,  and  our  keel  struck  the  shore.  The  sailors  jumped 
into  the  water;  one  of  the  women  planted  a  tall  bench 
against  the  bow,  and  over  this  bridge  we  were  landed. 
There  was  already  a  crowd  surrounding  us  with  clamors 
for  gifts  and  service.  The  woman  with  the  bench  was  the 
noisiest :  "  It  is  mine  !  "  she  continually  cried,  —  "/brought 
it !  "  I  gave  her  a  copper  coin,  expecting,  after  my  Nea 
politan  experiences  to  hear  wilder  cries  for  more  ;  but  she 
only  tittered,  "JZh?  due  lajoccld  !  "  in  an  indescribable  tone, 
shouldered  her  bench,  and  walked  away.  Antonio  picked 
out  two  maidens,  piled  our  baggage  upon  their  heads,  and 
we  set  off  for  the  town  of  Capri.  The  clamorous  crowd 
dissolved  at  once  ;  there  was  neither  insult  nor  pursuit.  It 
was  a  good-humored  demonstration  of  welcome  —  nothing 
more. 

It  was  but  a  single  step  from  the  strand  —  the  only  little 
fragment  of  beach  on  ten  miles  of  inaccessible  shore  —  to 
the  steep  and  stony  pathway  leading  up  the  height.  It  still 
rained,  and  the  night  was  rapidly  falling.  High  garden 
walls  further  darkened  the  way,  which  was  barely  wide 
enough  to  allow  two  persons  to  pass,  and  the  bed  of  which, 
collecting  the  rain  from  the  steeps  on  either  side,  was  like 
that  of  a  mountain  torrent.  Before  us  marched  the  bare 
legged  porteresses,  with  astonishing  lightness  and  swiftness, 
while  we  plodded  after,  through  the  rattling  waters,  often 
slipping  on  the  wet  stones,  and  compelled  to  pause  at  every 
corner  to  regain  our  breath.  The  bright  houses  on  the 
ridge  overhead  shone  as  if  by  their  own  light,  crowning  the 
dusky  gardens,  and  beckoning  us  upwards. 

After  nearly  half  an  hour  of  such  climbing,  we  emerged 
from  between  the  walls.  A  vast,  hollow  view  opened  dimly 
down  to  the  sea  for  a  moment ;  then  we  passed  under  an  arch, 


340  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


ich 


and  found  ourselves  in  the  little  square  of  the  town,  which 
is  planted  on  the  crest  of  the  island,  at  its  lowest  point. 
There  are  not  forty  feet  of  level  ground ;  the  pavement 
falls  to  both  shores.  A  few  paces  down  the  southern  slope 
brought  us  to  a  large  white  mansion,  beside  which  the 
crown  of  a  magnificent  palm-tree  rustled  in  the  wind. 
This  was  the  hostelry  of  Don  Michele  Pagano,  known  to 
all  artists  who  have  visited  Capri  for  the  last  twenty  years. 
A  stately  entrance,  an  ample  staircase,  and  lofty,  vaulted 
chambers,  gave  the  house  a  palatial  air,  as  we  came  into  it 
out  of  the  stormy  night.  The  two  maidens,  who  had  car 
ried  forty  pounds  apiece  on  their  heads,  were  not  in  the 
least  flushed  by  their  labor.  The  fee  I  gave  seemed  to  me 
very  small,  but  they  were  so  well  pleased  that  Antonio's 
voice,  demanding,  "  Why  don't  you  thank  the  Signore  ?  " 
made  them  start  out  of  a  dream,  —  perhaps  of  pork  and 
macaroni.  At  once,  like  children  saying  their  lessons,  they 
dipped  a  deep  courtesy,  side  by  side,  saying,  "  Grazie,  Sig 
nore  !  "  I  then  first  saw  how  pretty  they  were,  how  bright 
their  eyes,  how  dazzling  their  teeth,  and  how  their  smiles 
flashed  as  they  said  "  Good-night ! "  Meanwhile,  Don 
Michele's  daughter  had  kindled  a  fire  on  the  hearth,  there 
was  a  promise  of  immediate  dinner,  and  we  began  to  like 
Capri  from  that  moment. 

My  first  walk  satisfied  me  that  no  one  can  make  ac 
quaintance  with  the  island,  from  a  boat.  Its  sea-walls  of 
rock  are  so  enormous,  that  they  hide  almost  its  entire  habit 
able  portion  from  view.  In  order  to  make  any  description 
of  its  scenery  clear  to  the  reader,  the  prominent  topograph 
ical  features  must  be  first  sketched.  Capri  lies  due  south 
of  Naples,  its  longer  diameter  running  east  and  west,  so 
that  it  presents  its  full  broadside  to  the  capital.  Its  out 
line,  on  the  ground  plan,  is  that  of  a  short,  broad-topped 
boot,  the  toe  pointing  towards  the  Sorrentine  headland. 
The  breadth,  across  the  top,  or  western  end,  is  two  miles, 
and  the  length  of  the  island  is  about  four  miles.  The  town 


A  WEEK   ON   CAPEI.  341 

of  Capri  lies  just  at  the  top  of  the  instep,  where  the  ankle 
is  narrowest,  occupying  also  the  crest  between  the  northern 
and  southern  shores.  Immediately  to  the  west  of  it  rises  a 
tremendous  mountain-wall,  only  to  be  scaled  at  one  point. 
All  the  island  beyond  this  wall  is  elevated  considerably 
above  the  eastern  half,  the  division  being  also  municipal 
and  social.  The  eastern  part,  however,  possesses  the  only 
landing-places  on  both  shores,  whence  it  is  the  most  ani 
mated  and  populous,  claiming  at  least  two  thirds  of  the 
entire  number  of  five  thousand  souls  on  the  island.  The 
most  elevated  points  are  the  Sal  to  (leap)  di  Tiberio,  the 
extreme  eastern  cape,  which  rises  nearly  a  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea  ;  and  Monte  Solaro,  a  part  of  the  dividing 
wall  which  I  have  just  mentioned,  about  double  the  height 
of  the  Salto.  In  addition  to  the  landing-place  on  the 
northern  shore,  there  is  a  little  cove  just  opposite,  below 
the  town,  where  boats  can  land  in  still  weather.  Else 
where,  the  rocks  descend  to  the  water  in  a  sheer  wall,  from 
one  to  eight  hundred  feet  in  height.  Although  so  near 
Naples,  the  winds  from  the  mountains  of  the  Peninsula  are 
somewhat  softened  in  crossing  the  bay,  and  the  winter 
temperature  is  about  ten  degrees  higher  in  consequence. 

When  we  crossed  the  little  square  of  the  town  to  the 
entrance-gate,  on  the  morning  after  our  arrival,  there  was  a 
furious  tramontane*  blowing.  The  whole  circuit  of  the  Bay 
of  Naples  was  vistble,  drawn  in  hard,  sharp  outlines,  and 
the  blue  basin  of  water  was  freckled  with  thousands  of 
shifting  white-caps.  The  resemblance  of  the  bay  to  a  vast 
volcanic  crater  struck  my  fancy :  the  shores  and  islands 
seem  to  be  the  ruins  of  its  rim.  Such  a  wind,  in  Naples, 
would  have  been  intolerable :  here  it  was  only  strong  at 
exposed  points,  and  its  keen  edge  was  gone.  We  turned 
eastward,  along  the  narrow,  dirty  street,  to  get  into  the 
country.  In  a  hundred  yards  the  town  ceased,  and  the 
heavy  walls  gave  place  to  enormous  hedges  of  cactus.  A 
boy,  walking  the  same  way,  asked :  "  Are  you  going  to 


342  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

Timberio  "  (Tiberius)  ?  The  ruins  of  the  Villa  Jovis,  the 
principal  palace  of  the  Emperor,  were  already  to  be  seen, 
on  the  summit  of  the  eastern  headland  of  the  island. 
Along  a  roughly  paved  lane,  under  the  shade  of  carob  and 
olive  trees,  we  finally  came  to  a  large  country-house  in  a 
most  picturesque  state  of  ruin.  A  crumbling  archway, 
overhung  by  a  fringe  of  aloes,  which  had  thrust  their  roots 
between  the  stones,  attracted  my  attention,  and  I  began  to 
sketch  it.  Not  many  minutes  elapsed  before  five  or  six 
boys  came  out,  and  watched  me  from  the  arch.  They 
would  have  been  good  accessories,  but,  whenever  I  looked 
at  one,  he  got  out  of  the  way.  Presently  they  brought  an 
aloe,  and  set  it  upon  the  rocks  ;  but,  seeing  that  I  paid  no 
attention  to  it,  one  of  them  remarked  with  a  grimace,  "  No 
butiglia,"  —  meaning  that  he  expected  no  gratuity  from  me. 
They  were  lively,  good-natured  imps,  and  so  it  was  a  pleas 
ure  to  disappoint  them  agreeably. 

We  went  also  down  the  southern  slope  of  the  island,  and 
came  at  random  into  the  Val  Tragara,  —  a  peaceful  sol 
itude,  where  twenty-five  centuries  of  labor  have  turned  the 
hostile  rocks  into  tiers  of  ever-yielding  gardens.  One  range 
of  these  is  supported  upon  arches  of  masonry  that  formerly 
upheld  the  highway  which  Tiberius  constructed  between 
his  palaces.  I  afterwards  found  other  traces  of  the  road, 
leading  in  easy  zigzags  to  the  site  of  the  fourth  palace  on 
San  Michele.  Descending  deeper  in  the  Val  Tragara  we 
missed  the  main  path,  and  stumbled  down  the  channels  of 
the  rain  between  clumps  of  myrtle  and  banks  whereon  the 
red  anemone  had  just  begun  to  open  its  blossoms.  The 
olive-trees,  sheltered  from  the  wind,  were  silent,  and  their 
gray  shadows  covered  the  suggestive  mystery  of  the  spot. 
For  here  Tiberius  is  supposed  to  have  hidden  those  rites  of 
the  insane  Venus  to  which  Suetonius  and  Tacitus  so  darkly 

allude. 

"  Non  ragioniam  di  lor,  ma  guarda  e  passa." 

A  single  almond-tree,  in  flower,  made  its  own  sunshine 


A    WEEK    ON    CAPRI.  3-13 

in  the  silvery  gloom  ;  and  the  secluded  beauties  of  the 
place  tempted  us  on,  until  the  path  dropped  into  a  ravine, 
which  fell  towards  the  sea.  Following  the  line  of  the  an 
cient  arches  there  is  another  path  —  the  only  level  walk  on 
the  island  —  leading  to  a  terrace  above  the  three  pointed 
rocks  off  the  southern  coast,  called  the  Faraglioni.  In  the 
afternoon,  when  all  the  gardens  and  vineyards  from  the 
edge  of  the  white  cliffs  to  the  town  along  the  ridge  lie  in 
light,  and  the  huge  red  and  gray  walls  beyond,  literally 
piled  against  the  sky,  are  in  hazy  shadow,  the  views  from 
this  path  are  poems  written  in  landscape  forms.  One  does 
not  need  to  remember  that  here  once  was  Rome ;  that 
beyond  the  sea  lie  Sicily  and  Carthage  ;  that  Augustus  con 
secrated  the  barren  rock  below  to  one  of  his  favorites,  and 
jested  with  Thrasyllus  at  one  of  his  last  feasts.  The  de 
light  of  the  eye  fills  you  too  completely  ;  and  Capri,  as  you 
gaze,  is  released  from  its  associations,  classic  and  diabolic. 
If  Nature  was  here  profaned  by  man,  she  has  long  ago 
washed  away  the  profanation.  Her  pure  air  and  healthy 
breezes  tolerate  no  moral  diseases.  Such  were  brought 
hither ;  but  they  took  no  root,  and  have  left  no  trace,  ex 
cept  in  the  half-fabulous  "Timberio"  of  the  people. 

It  is  time  to  visit  the  Villa  Jovis,  the  Emperor's  chief 
residence.  The  tramontana  still  blew  when  we  set  out> 
but,  as  I  said,  it  had  lost  its  sharp  edge  in  coming  over  the 
bay,  and  was  deliciously  bracing.  As  the  gulf  opened 
below  us,  after  passing  Monte  San  Michele,  we  paused  to 
look  at  the  dazzling  panorama.  Naples  was  fair  in  sight ; 
and  the  smoke  of  Vesuvius,  following  the  new  lava,  seemed 
nearly  to  have  reached  Torre  del  Greco.  While  we  were 
studying  the  volcano  through  a  glass,  a  tall  man  in  Scotch 
cap  and  flannel  shirt  came  up,  stopped,  and  addressed  us 
in  Italian. 

"You  see  that  white  house  yonder  on  the  cliff?  "said 
he  ;  "  a  Signore  Inglese  lives  there.  It's  a  nice  place,  a 
beautiful  situation.  There's  the  place  for  the  cows,  and 


344  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

there  are  the  columbaria,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  It's  what 
they  call  a  quinta  in  Portugal." 

"  Is  the  Englishman  married  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  believe  there's  a  certain 
woman  in  the  house." 

I  handed  him  the  glass,  which  he  held  to  his  eyes  for 
five  minutes,  without  saying  a  word.  Suddenly  he  broke 
out  in  English  :  "  Yes,  as  you  say,  the  powdery  appearance 
—  the  —  ah,  the  sudden  change!  Boreal  weather,  you 
know  ;  but  the  indications  seem  to  me,  having  watched  and 
kept  the  thing  in  view,  quite  —  ah  —  quite  of  your  opin 
ion  : " 

I  was  speechless,  as  may  easily  be  imagined  ;  and,  before 
I  could  guess  what  to  reply,  he  handed  me  the  glass,  took 
off  his  cap,  said  :  "  Here's  hoping  —  ah,  wishing  that  we 
may  meet  again  —  perhaps!"  and  went  off  with  tremen 
dous  strides. 

*'  Who  is  that,  Augusto  ?  "  I  asked  of  the  small  Caprese 
boy  who  carried  our  books  and  umbrellas. 

"  Un  Signo1  Inglese." 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

"  E  un  pd1  pazzo  "  (a  little  cracked). 

"  Where  does  he  live  ?  " 

"  Yonder ! "  said  Augusto,  pointing  to  the  very  house, 
and  place  for  the  cows,  and  the  columbaria,  to  which  the 
gentleman  himself  had  called  my  attention.  It  was  his 
own  house  !  The  "  certain  woman,"  I  afterwards  learned, 
was  his  legal  wife,  a  girl  of  Capri.  As  for  himself,  he 
bears  a  name  noted  in  literature,  and  is  the  near  relative 
of  three  authors. 

Two  pleasant  girls  kept  us  company  a  little  further,  and 
then  we  went  on  alone,  by  a  steep,  slippery  path,  paved 
with  stone,  between  the  poor  little  fields  of  fig  and  olive. 
The  patches  of  wheat  were  scarcely  bigger  than  cottage 
flower-beds,  and  in  many  places  a  laborious  terrace  sup 
ported  only  ground  enough  to  produce  a  half-peck  of  grain. 


A   WEEK   ON   CAPRI.  345 

Lupines  and  horse-beans  are  the  commonest  crop  at  this 
season.  Along  our  path  bloomed  "  the  daisy-star  that 
never  sets,"  with  anemone  and  golden  broom.  The  Villa 
Jovis  was  full  in  view,  and  not  distant ;  but  the  way  first 
led  us  to  the  edge  of  the  cliffs  on  the  southeastern  side  of 
the  island.  From  a  rough  pulpit  of  masonry  we  looked 
down  on  the  wrinkled  sea  near  a  thousand  feet  below. 
The  white-caps  were  but  the  tiniest  sprinkles  of  silver  on 
its  deep-blue  ground. 

As  we  mounted  towards  the  eastern  headland,  the  tremen 
dous  walls  of  the  western  half  of  Capri  rose  bold  and  bright 
against  the  sky ;  but  the  arcs  of  the  sea  horizon,  on  either 
side,  were  so  widely  extended  that  they  nearly  clasped  be 
hind  Monte  Solaro.  It  was  a  wonderful,  an  indescribable 
view  ;  how  can  I  give  it  in  words  ?  Here  I  met  an  old  man, 
in  a  long  surtout,  who  stopped  and  conversed  a  minute  in 
French.  He  was  a  soldier  of  Napoleon,  now  the  keeper  of 
a  little  restaurant  at  the  Salto  di  Tiberio,  and  had  just  been 
made  happy  by  the  cross  and  a  pension.  The  restaurant 
was  opened  by  a  peasant,  and  we  passed  through  it  to  the 
Salto.  A  protecting  rampart  of  masonry  enables  you  to 
walk  to  the  very  brink.  The  rock  falls  a  thousand  feet, 
and  so  precipitously  that  the  victims  flung  hence  must 
have  dropped  into  the  waves.  We  looked  directly  across  the 
strait  to  the  Cape  of  Minerva,  and  towards  Salerno  as  well 
as  Naples.  The  snow-crowned  Monte  Sant'  Angelo,  rising 
in  the  centre,  gave  the  peninsula  a  broad  pyramidal  form, 
buttressed  by  the  headlands  on  either  side.  The  Isles  of 
the  Sirens  were  full  in  view ;  and,  beyond  them,  the  whole 
curve  of  the  Salernic  gulf,  to  the  far  Calabrian  cape  of 
Licosa.  The  distance  was  bathed  in  a  flood  of  airy  gold, 
and  the  gradations  in  the  color  of  the  sea,  from  pale  ame 
thyst  to  the  darkest  sapphire  below  us,  gave  astonishing 
breadth  and  depth  to  the  immense  perspective.  But  the 
wind,  tearing  round  the  point  in  furious  gusts,  seemed  try 
ing  to  snatch  us  over  the  rampart,  and  the  hoiror  of  the 
height  became  insupportable. 


34G  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

Much  of  the  plan  of  the  Villa  Jovis  may  still  be  traced. 
As  we  approached  the  ruins,  which  commence  a  few  paces 
beyond  the  Salto,  a  woman  made  her  appearance,  and 
assumed  the  office  of  guide.  "  Here  lived  Timberio,"  said 
she  ;  "  he  was  a  great  man,  a  beautiful  man,  but  0,  he  was 
a  devil !  Down  there  are  seven  chambers,  which  you  can 
only  see  by  a  torch-light ;  and  here  are  the  piscine,  one  for 
salt  water  and  one  for  fresh  ;  and  now  I'll  show  you  the 
mosaic  pavement  —  all  made  by  Timberio.  0,  the  devil 
that  he  was ! "  Timberio  is  the  favorite  demon  of  the 
people  of  Capri.  I  suspect  they  would  not  give  him  up  for 
any  consideration.  A  wine  of  the  island  is  called  the  "  Tears 
of  Tiberius"  (when  did  he  ever  shed  any,  I  wonder?  ),  just 
as  the  wine  of  Vesuvius  is  called  the  Tears  of  Christ.  When 
I  pointed  to  the  distant  volcano,  whose  plume  of  silver  smoke 
was  the  sign  of  the  active  eruption,  and  said  to  the  woman, 
"  Timberio  is  at  work  yonder !  "  she  nodded  her  head,  and 
answered  :  "  Ah,  the  devil !  to  be  sure  he  is." 

AVe  picked  our  way  through  the  ruins,  tracing  three 
stories  of  the  palace,  which  must  have  been  four,  if  not 
five  stories  high  on  the  land  side.  Some  drums  of  marble 
columns  are  scattered  about,  bits  of  stucco  remain  at  the 
bases  of  the  walls  ;  there  is  a  corridor  paved  with  mosaic, 
descending,  curiously  enough,  in  an  inclined  plane,  and  the 
ground  plan  of  a  small  theatre  ;  but  the  rubbish  left  does 
not  even  hint  of  the  former  splendor.  It  is  not  one  of  those 
pathetic  ruins  which  seem  to  appeal  to  men  for  preserva 
tion  ;  it  rather  tries  to  hide  itself  from  view,  welcoming  the 
broom,  the  myrtle,  and  the  caper-shrub  to  root-hold  in  its 
masses  of  brick  and  mortar. 

On  the  topmost  platform  of  ruin  is  the  little  chapel  of 
Santa  Maria  del  Soccorso,  together  with  the  hermitage  of 
a  good-natured  friar,  who  brings  you  a  chair,  offers  you  bits 
of  Tiberian  marble,  and  expects  a  modest  alms.  Here  I 
found  the  wild  Englishman,  sitting  on  a  stone  bench  beside 
the  chapel.  He  pointed  over  the  parapet  to  the  awful 


A    WEEK    ON   CAPRT.  847 

precipice,  and  asked  me  :  "  Did  you  ever  go  over  there  ?  / 
did  once  —  to  get  some  jonquils.  You  know  the  rock- 
jonquils  are  the  finest."  Then  he  took  my  glass,  looked 
through  it  at  the  distant  shores,  and  began  to  laugh.  '•  This 
reminds  me,"  said  he,  "  of  a  man  who  was  blown  up  with  his 
house  several  hundred  feet  into  the  air.  He  was  immensely 
frightened,  when,  all  at  once,  he  saw  his  neighbor's  house 
beside  him  — blown  up  too.  And  the  neighbor  called  out : 
'  How  long  do  you  think  it  will  take  us  to  get  down  again  ?' 
Cool  —  wasn't  it  ?  "  Thereupon  he  went  to  the  ladies  of 
the  party,  whom  he  advised  to  go  to  the  marina,  and  see  the 
people  catch  shrimps.  "  It's  a  beautiful  sight,"  he  said. 
"  The  girls  are  so  fresh  and  rosy  —  but,  then,  so  are  the 
shrimps  ! " 

It  is  no  lost  time,  if  you  sit  down  upon  a  block  of  marble 
in  the  Villa  Jovis,  and  dream  a  long, bewildering  day-dream. 
Here  it  is  almost  as  much  a  riot  for  the  imagination  to 
restore  what  once  was,  as  to  create  what  might  be.  The 
temples  of  Minerva  and  Apollo,  across  the  strait,  were  both 
visible  from  this  point.  Looking  over  Capri,  you  place  the 
second  palace  of  Tiberius  on  the  summit  of  Monte  Tuoro, 
which  rises  against  the  sea  on  your  right;  the  third  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  island,  a  little  further ;  the  fourth  on 
Monte  San  Michele ;  the  fifth  and  sixth  beyond  the  town 
of  Capri,  near  the  base  of  the  mountain  wall.  Roads  con 
necting  these  piles  of  splendor  cross  the  valleys  on  high 
arches,  and  climb  the  peaks  in  laborious  curves.  Beyond 
the  bay,  the  headland  of  Misenum  and  the  shores  of  Baiaa 
are  one  long  glitter  of  marble.  Villas  and  temples  crown 
the  heights  of  Puteoli,  and  stretch  in  an  unbroken  line  to 
Neapolis.  Here  the  vision  grows  dim,  but  you  know  what 
magnificence  fills  the  whole  sweep  of  the  shore  —  Portici 
and  Pompeii  and  Stabiae,  growing  visible  again  as  the  pal 
aces  shine  above  the  rocks  of  Surrentum  ! 

After  the  wonder  that  such  things  were,  the  next  greatest 
wonder  is  that  they  have  so  utterly  vanished.  What  is 


348  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

preserved  is  so  fresh  and  solid  that  Time  seems  to  have 
done  the  least  towards  their  destruction.  The  masonry  of 
Capri  can  scarcely  have  been  carried  away,  while  such 
quarries  —  still  unexhausted  —  were  supplied  by  the  main 
land  ;  and  the  tradition  is  probably  correct,  that  the  palaces 
of  Tiberius  were  razed  to  the  ground  immediately  after  his 
fall.  The  charms  of  the  island  were  first  discovered  by 
Augustus.  Its  people  were  still  Greek,  in  his  day  ;  and  it 
belonged  to  the  Greek  Neapolis,  to  which  he  gave  the  larger 
and  richer  Ischia  in  exchange  for  it.  The  ruins  of  the  Villa 
Jovis  are  supposed  to  represent,  also,  the  site  of  his  palace  ; 
and  Tiberius,  who  learned  diplomacy  from  the  cunning 
Emperor,  and  crime  from  the  Empress,  his  own  mother, 
first  came  hither  with  him.  A  period  of  twenty  or  thirty 
years  saw  the  splendors  of  Capri  rise  and  fall.  After 
Tiberius,  the  island  ceased  to  have  a  history. 

Every  walk  on  these  heights,  whence  you  look  out  far 
over  bays,  seas,  and  shores,  is  unlike  anything  else  in  the 
world.  It  is  surprising  what  varieties  of  scenery  are 
embraced  in  this  little  realm.  In  the  afternoon  we  saw 
another  phase  of  it  on  the  southern  shore,  at  a  point 
called  the  Marina  Piccola.  After  passing  below  the  town 
and  the  terraced  fields,  we  came  upon  a  wild  slope,  grown 
with  broom  and  mastic  and  arbutus,  among  which  cows 
were  feeding.  Here  the  island  shelves  down  rapidly  be 
tween  two  near  precipices.  The  wind  was  not  felt ;  the  air 
was  still  and  warm,  and  the  vast,  glittering  sea  basked  in  the 
sun.  At  the  bottom  we  found  three  fishers'  houses  stuck 
among  the  rocks,  more  like  rough  natural  accretions  than 
the  work  of  human  hand ;  a  dozen  boats  hauled  up  on  the 
stones  in  a  cove  about  forty  feet  in  diameter  ;  and  one  soli 
tary  man.  Silence  and  savage  solitude  mark  the  spot  East? 
ward,  the  Faraglioni  rise  in  gray-red,  inaccessible  cones ; 
the  ramparts  of  the  Castello  make  sharp,  crenelated  zigzags 
on  the  sky,  a  thousand  feet  above  one's  head ;  and  only  a 
few  olive -groves,  where  Monte  Tuoro  falls  into  the  Val 


A  WEEK   ON   CAPRI. 

Tragara,  speak  of  cultivation.  One  might  fancy  himself  to 
be  upon  some  lone  Pacific  island.  The  fisher  told  us  that 
in  tempests  the  waves  are  hurled  entirely  over  the  houses, 
and  boats  in  the  cove  are  then  dashed  to  pieces.  But  in 
May,  the  quails,  weary  with  their  flight  from  Africa,  land  on 
the  slope  above,  and  are  caught  in  nets  by  hundreds  and 
thousands. 

We  had  not  yet  exhausted  the  lower,  or  eastern  half  of 
the  island.  Another  morning  was  devoted  to  the  Arco 
Naturale,  on  the  southern  coast,  between  Monte  Tuoro  and 
the  Salto.  Scrambling  along  a  stony  lane,  between  the 
laborious  terraces  of  the  Capri  farmers,  we  soon  reached 
the  base  of  the  former  peak,  where,  completely  hidden  from 
view,  lay  a  rich  circular  basin  of  level  soil,  not  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  in  diameter.  Only  two  or  three  houses  were 
visible  ;  some  boys,  hoeing  in  a  field  at  a  distance,  cried  out, 
"  Signo\  un  baioc*  /  "  with  needless  iteration,  as  if  the  words 
were  a  greeting.  Presently  we  came  upon  a  white  farm 
house,  out  of  which  issued  an  old  woman  and  four  wild, 
frouzy  girls  —  all  of  whom  attached  themselves  to  us,  and 
would  not  be  shaken  off. 

We  were  already  on  the  verge  of  the  coast.  Over  the 
jagged  walls  of  rock  we  saw  the  plain  of  Paestum  beyond 
the  sea,  which  opened  deeper  and  bluer  beneath  us  with 
every  step.  The  rich  garden-basin  and  the  amphitheatre 
of  terraced  fields  on  Monte  Tuoro  were  suddenly  shut  from 
view.  A  perpendicular  cliff  of  white  rock  arose  on  the 
right;  and  below  some  rough  shelves  wrought  into  fields 
stood  the  Natural  Arch,  like  the  front  of  a  shattered  Gothic 
cathedral.  Its  background  was  the  sea,  which  shone  through 
the  open  arch.  High  up  on  the  left,  over  the  pointed  crags, 
stood  a  single  rock  shaped  like  a  Rhine-wine  beaker,  hold 
ing-  its  rounded  cup  to  the  sky.  There  is  scarcely  a  wilder 
view  on  Capri. 

Following  the  rough  path  by  which  the  people  reach  their 
little  fields,  we  clambered  down  the  rocks,  along  the  brink 


850  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

of  steeps  which  threatened  danger  whenever  the  gusts  of 
wind  came  around  the  point.  The  frouzy  girls  were  at  hand, 
and  eager  to  help.  When  we  declined,  they  claimed  money 
for  having  given  us  their  company,  and  we  found  it  prudent 
to  settle  the  bill  at  once.  The  slope  was  so  steep  that  every 
brink  of  rock,  from  above,  seemed  to  be  the  last  between  us 
and  the  sea.  Our  two  boy-attendants  went  down  somewhere, 
out  of  sight ;  and  their  song  came  up  through  the  roar  of 
the  wind  like  some  wild  strain  of  the  Sirens  whose  isles  we 
saw  in  the  distance.  The  rock  is  grandly  arched,  with  a 
main  portal  seventy  or  eighty  feet  high,  and  two  open 
windows  at  the  sides. 

Half-way  down  the  cliff  on  the  right  is  the  grotto  of 
Mitromania  —  a  name  which  the  people,  of  course,  have 
changed  into  "  Matrimonio,"  as  if  the  latter  word  had  an 
application  to  Tiberius !  There  were  some  two  hundred 
steps  to  descend,  to  a  little  platform  of  earth,  under  the 
overhanging  cliffs.  Here  the  path  dropped  suddenly  into 
a  yawning  crevice,  the  floor  of  which  was  traversed  with 
cracks,  as  if  ready  to  plunge  into  the  sea  which  glimmered 
up  through  them.  Passing  under  the  gloomy  arch,  \ve  came 
upon  a  chamber  of  reticulated  Roman  masonry,  built  in  a 
side  cavity  of  the  rock,  which  forms  part  of  the  main  grotto 
or  temple  of  Mithras.  The  latter  is  about  one  hundred  feet 
deep  and  fifty  wide,  and  opens  directly  towards  the  sunrise. 

Antiquarians  derive  the  name  of  the  grotto  from  Magnum 
Mithrce  Antrum.  There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  as  to  its 
character :  one  can  still  perceive  the  exact  spot  where  the 
statue  of  the  god  was  placed,  to  catch  the  first  beams  of  his 
own  luminary,  coming  from  Persia  to  be  welcomed  and 
worshipped  on  the  steeps  of  Capri.  It  is  difficult  to  say 
what  changes  time  and  earthquakes  may  not  have  wrought ; 
but  it  seems  probable  that  the  ancient  temple  extended  to 
the  front  of  the  cliffs,  and  terminated  in  a  platform  hanging 
over  the  sea.  A  Greek  inscription  found  in  this  grotto 
associates  it  both  with  the  superstition  and  the  cruelty  of 


A   WEEK   ON   CAPRI.  851 

Tiberius.  I  have  not  seen  the  original,  which  is  in  the 
Museum  at  Naples,  but  here  repeat  it  from  the  translation 
of  Gregorovius :  — 

"  Ye  who  inhabit  the  Stygian  land,  beneficent  demons. 
Me,  the  unfortunate,  take  ye  also  now  to  your  Hades,  — 
Me,  whom  not  the  will  of  the  gods,  but  the  power  of  the  Ruler, 
Suddenly  smote  with  death,  which,  guiltless,  I  never  suspected. 
Crowned  with  so  many  a  gift,  enjoying  the  favor  of  Caesar, 
Now  he  destroyeth  my  hopes  and  the  hopes  of  my  parents. 
Not  h'fteen  have  I  reached,  not  twenty  the  years  I  have  numbered, 
Ah  !  and  no  more  I  behold  the  light  of  the  beautiful  heavens. 
Hypatos  am  I  by  name:  to  thee  I  appeal,  O  my  brother,  — 
Parents,  also,  I  pray  you,  unfortunate,  mourn  me  no  longer!  " 

A.  human  sacrifice  is  here  clearly  indicated.  This  mys 
terious  cavern,  with  its  diabolical  associations,  the  giddy 
horror  of  the  Salto,  and  the  traces  of  more  than  one  con 
cealed  way  of  escape,  denoting  the  fear  which  is  always 
allied  with  cruelty,  leave  an  impression  which  the  efforts  of 
those  historiasters  who  endeavor  to  whitewash  Tiberius 
cannot  weaken  with  all  their  arguments.  Napoleon  was 
one  of  his  admirers,  but  his  opinion  on  such  matters  is  of 
no  great  weight.  When  Dr.  Adolf  Stahr,  however,  devotes 
a  volume  to  the  work  of  proving  Tiberius  to  have  been  a 
good  and  much-abused  man,  we  turn  to  the  pages  of  Sue 
tonius  and  the  Spintrian  medals,  and  are  not  convinced. 
The  comment  of  the  old  woman  at  the  Villa  Jovis  will 
always  express  the  general  judgment  of  mankind,  —  "  0, 
che  diavolo  era  Timberio  !  " 

If  you  stand  at  the  gate  of  the  town,  and  look  eastward 
towards  the  great  dividing  wall,  you  can  detect,  on  the 
corner  nearest  the  sea,  the  zigzag  line  of  the  only  path 
which  leads  up  to  Anacapri  and  the  western  part  of  the 
island.  One  morning  when  the  boy  Manfred,  as  he  brought 
our  coffee,  told  us  that  the  tramontana  had  ceased  blowing, 
we  sent  for  horses,  to  make  the  ascent.  We  had  been 
awakened  by  volleys  of  musketry  ;  the  church-bells  were 
chiming,  and  there  were  signs  of  a  festa,  —  but  Felice,  the 


852  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

owner  of  the  horses,  explained  the  matter.  Two  young 
men,  mariners  of  Capri,  had  recently  suffered  shipwreck  on 
the  coast  of  Calabria.  Their  vessel  was  lost,  and  they  only 
saved  their  lives  because  they  happened,  at  the  critical 
moment,  to  call  on  the  Madonna  del  Carmine.  She  heard 
and  helped  them  :  they  reached  home  in  safety,  and  on  this 
day  they  burned  a  lamp  before  her  shrine,  had  a  mass  said 
in  their  names,  and  invited  their  families  and  friends  to 
share  in  the  thanksgiving.  I  heard  the  bells  with  delight, 
for  they  expressed  the  poetry  of  superstition  based  on 
truth. 

We  set  out,  in 

"  The  halcyon  morn 
To  hoar  February  born." 

Indeed,  such  a  day  makes  one  forget  tramontana,  sirocco, 
and  all  the  other  weather-evils  of  the  Italian  winter.  Words 
cannot  describe  the  luxury  of  the  air,  the  perfect  stillness 
and  beauty  of  the  day,  and  the  far,  illuminated  shores  of 
the  bay  as  they  opened  before  us.  We  saw  that  the  season 
had  turned,  in  the  crocusses  and  violets  which  blossomed 
beside  the  path  —  the  former  a  lovely  pale-purple  flower, 
with  fire-tinted  stamens.  With  Felice  came  two  little  girls, 
Luigia  and  Serafina,  the  former  of  whom  urged  on  a 
horse,  while  the  other  carried  on  her  head  the  basket  of 
provisions.  Our  small  factotum,  Augusto,  took  charge  of 
the  bottles  of  wine,  and  Felice  himself  bore  the  shawls 
and  books.  Beyond  the  town,  the  path  wound  between 
clumps  of  myrtle,  arbutus,  and  the  delicate  white  erica, 
already  in  bud.  Under  us  lay  the  amphitheatre  of  vine 
yards  and  orange-groves ;  and  the  town  of  Capri,  behind, 
stretching  from  San  Michele  to  the  foot  of  the  Castello, 
seemed  a  fortified  city  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Ovrer  the 
glassy  sea  rose  Vesuvius,  apparently  peaceful,  yet  with  a 
demon  at  work  under  that  silvery  cloud  ;  Monte  St.  Angelo, 
snowy  and  bleak ;  and  the  rich  slopes  of  Sorrento  and 
Massa. 


A   \VEKK   ON   CAPRI.  353 

One  of  the  giumente  (as  Felice  called  his  horses)  turned 
on  seeing  the  rocky  staircase,  and  tried  to  escape.  But  it 
was  a  sign  of  protest,  not  of  hope.  They  were  small,  un 
shod,  very  peaceful  creatures,  doomed  to  a  sorry  fate,  but 
they  never  had  known  anything  better.  Their  horse-ideal 
was  derived  from  the  hundred  yards  of  ?mstony  path  below 
Capri,  and  the  few  fresh  turnips  and  carrots  which  they  get 
on  holidays.  It  was,  perhaps,  a  waste  of  sympathy  to  pity 
them  ;  yet  one  inclines  to  pity  beasts  more  readily  than  men. 

At  the  foot  of  the  staircase  we  dismounted,  and  prepared 
to  climb  the  giddy  steep.  There  are  five  hundred  and 
sixty  steps,  and  they  will  average  more  than  a  foot  in 
height.  It  is  a  fatiguing  but  not  dangerous  ascent,  the 
overhanging  side  being  protected  by  a  parapet,  while  the 
frequent  landings  afford  secure  resting-places.  On  the 
white  precipices  grew  the  blue  "flower  of  spring"  (fiore 
delta  primaverd),  and  the  air  was  sweet  with  odors  of  un 
known  buds.  Up  and  still  up,  we  turned  at  each  angle  to 
enjoy  the  wonderful  aerial  view,  which,  on  such  a  morning, 
made  me  feel  half-fledged,  with  sprouting  wings  which  ere 
long  might  avail  to  bear  me  across  the  hollow  gulf.  We 
met  a  fellow  with  a  splendid  Roman  head,  whereon  he  was 
carrying  down  to  the  marina  the  huge  oaken  knee  of  some 
future  vessel.  Surprised  at  the  size  of  the  timber,  I  asked 
Felice  whether  it  really  grew  upon  the  island,  and  he  said 
there  were  large  oaks  about  and  beyond  Anacapri. 

Half-way  up,  the  chapel  of  Sant'  Antonio  stands  on  a 
little  spur,  projecting  from  the  awful  precipices.  Looking 
clown,  you  see  the  ruins  of  the  Palazzo  a'  Mare  of  Tiberius, 
the  bright  turquoise  patches  where  the  water  is  shallow, 
and  its  purple  tint  in  shadow.  White  sails  were  stretching 
across  from  the  headland  of  Sorrento,  making  for  the  Blue 
Grotto.  There  were  two  rnor*  very  long  and  steep  flights 
of  steps,  and  then  we  saw  the  gate  on  the  summit,  arched 
against  the  sky.  Hanging  from  the  rocks,  but  inaccessible, 
were  starry  bunches  of  daffodils.  It  had  seemed  to  me,  on 

23 


854  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

looking  at  the  rocky  walls  from  Capri,  that  an  easier  point 
of  ascent  might  have  been  chosen,  and  I  believe  it  is  settled 
that  Tiberius  visited  his  four  western  palaces  by  a  differ 
ent  path ;  but  I  now  saw  that  the  islanders  (not  possessing 
despotic  power)  have  really  chosen  the  most  accessible 
point.  The  table-land  beyond  does  not,  as  I  had  imagined, 
commence  at  the  summit  of  the  cliffs,  but  far  below  them, 
and  this  staircase  strikes  the  easiest  level. 

There  are  few  equal  surprises  on  Capri.  Not  many 
more  steps,  and  we  found  ourselves  on  a  rich  garden-plain, 
bounded  on  the  left  by  stony  mountains,  but  elsewhere 
stretching  away  to  sky  and  sea,  without  a  hint  of  the  tre 
mendous  cliffs  below.  Indeed,  but  for  the  luminous,  trem 
bling  haze  around  the  base  of  the  sky,  one  would  not  sur 
mise  the  nearness  of  the  sea,  but  rather  think  himself  to 
be  in  some  inland  region.  The  different  properties  are 
walled,  but  there  is  no  need  of  terraces.  Shining  white 
houses,  with  domed  roofs,  stand  in  the  peaceful  fields.  The 
fruit-trees  grow  rank,  huge  oaks  and  elms  with  ivied  trunks 
rise  above  them,  and  the  landscape  breathes  a  sweet,  idyllic 
air.  I  noticed  many  cherry-trees  of  great  size.  The  oaks, 
though  deciduous,  still  wore  the  green  leaves  of  last  sum 
mer,  which  will  only  be  pushed  from  the  twigs  when  this 
year's  buds  open.  High  over  this  pleasant  land,  on  a  bare 
rock,  are  the  towers  of  a  mediaeval  castle,  now  named  after 
Barbarossa  —  the  corsair,  not  the  Emperor. 

Presently  we  came  to  Anacapri,  cleanest,  most  pictur 
esque  and  delightful  of  Italian  villages.  How  those  white 
houses,  with  their  airy  loggias,  their  pillared  pergolas,  and 
their  trim  gardens,  wooed  us  to  stay,  and  taste  the  delight 
of  rest,  among  a  simple,  beautiful,  ignorant,  and  honest  peo 
ple  !  The  streets  were  as  narrow  and  shady  as  those  of 
any  oriental  city,  and  the  houses  mostly  presented  a  blank 
side  to  them  ;  but  there  were  many  arches,  each  opening 
on  a  sunny  picture  of  slim,  dark-haired  beauties  spinning 
silk,  or  grandams  regulating  the  frolics  of  children.  The 


A   WEEK   ON   CAPRI.  355 

latter,  seeing  us,  begged  for  lajocchi ;  and  even  the  girls 
did  the  same,  but  laughingly,  with  a  cheerful  mimicry  of 
mendicancy.  The  piazza  of  the  village  is  about  as  large  as 
the  dining-room  of  a  hotel.  A  bright  little  church  occu 
pies  one  side  ;  and,  as  there  was  said  to  be  a  view  from  the 
roof,  we  sent  for  the  key,  which  was  brought  by  three  girls. 
I  made  out  the  conjectured  location  of  the  ninth,  tenth, 
eleventh,  and  twelfth  palaces  of  Tiberius,  whereof  only  a 
few  stones  remain,  and  then  found  that  the  best  view  was 
that  of  the  three  girls.  They  had  the  low  brow,  straight 
nose,  short  upper  lip,  and  rounded  chin  which  belongs  to 
the  Caprese  type  of  beauty,  and  is  rather  Hellenic  than 
Roman.  Their  complexion  was  dark,  sunburnt  rather  than 
olive,  and  there  was  a  rich  flush  of  blood  on  their  cheeks  ; 
the  eyes  long  and  large,  and  the  teeth  white  as  the  kernels 
of  fresh  filberts.  Their  bare  feet  and  hands,  spoiled  by 
much  tramping  and  hard  work,  were  out  of  keeping  with 
their  graceful,  statuesque  beauty.  A  more  cheerful  picture 
of  Poverty  (for  they  are  all  miserably  poor),  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find. 

It  was  but  a  mile  further  to  the  headland  of  Damecuta. 
Felice,  however,  advised  us  rather  to  visit  the  tower  of 
Lima,  above  the  Punta  della  Carena,  the  northwestern 
extremity  of  the  island,  and  his  advice  proved  to  be  good 
in  the  end.  We  descended  a  stony  steep  into  a  little  val 
ley,  shaded  by  superb  olive-groves,  under  which  the  crops 
of  lupines  were  already  beginning  to  blossom.  The  dell 
fell  deeper  as  we  advanced ;  the  grass  was  starred  with  red 
anemones,  and  chere  were  odors  of  concealed  violets.  A 
mile  further,  we  came  upon  a  monastery,  with  a  square, 
crenelated  tower,  beyond  which  the  fields  gave  place  to  a 
narrow  strip  of  stony  down.  All  at  once  trie  shore  yawned 
beneath  us,  disclosing  the  extremity  of  the  island,  with 
three  deserted  batteries  on  as  many  points  of  rock,  a  new 
light-house,  and  the  little  cove  where  the  troops  of  Murat 
landed,  when  they  surprised  the  English  and  recaptured 


S5G  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

Capri,  in  1808.  Westward,  there  was  a  wide  sweep  of 
sunny  sea  ;  northward,  Ischia,  Procida  with  its  bright  town, 
Eaiae  and  Pozzuoli.  Here,  at  the  foot  of  an  old  martello 
tower,  we  made  our  noon  halt,  relieving  Serafina  of  the 
weight  of  her  basket,  and  Augusto  of  his  bottles. 

The  children  and  young  girls,  going  out  to  their  work  in 
the  fields,  begged  rather  pertinaciously.  "  We  are  very 
poor,"  they  cried  ;  u  and  you  are  so  grand  and  beautiful  you 
can  surely  give  us  something."  On  the  return,  we  met  a 
group  of  lively  maidens  coming  up  from  Capri,  who  said, 
when  I  told  them  there  were  no  more  bajocchi  in  my  pock 
ets  :  "  Well,  then,  give  us  a  franc,  and  we  will  divide  it 
among  us  !  "  Nevertheless,  begging  is  not  the  nuisance 
on  Capri  that  it  is  on  the  main-land.  It  is  always  good- 
humored,  and  refusal  is  never  followed  by  maledictions. 
The  poor  are  positively  and  certainly  poor,  and  they  seem 
to  think  it  no  shame  to  take  what  they  can  get  over  and 
above  their  hard  earnings.  When  one  sees  how  very  in 
dustrious  and  contented  they  are,  it  is  rather  a  pleasure  to 
add  a  few  coppers  to  the  little  store  laid  aside  for  their 
holidays. 

With  every  day,  every  hour,  of  our  residence,  we  more 
fully  realized  the  grandeur  and  variety  of  the  landscapes 
of  Capri.  The  week  which  I  thought  sufficient  to  enable 
us  to  see  the  island  thoroughly  drew  towards  its  close  ;  and 
although  we  had  gone  from  end  to  end  of  the  rocky  shores, 
climbed  all  the  principal  peaks,  and  descended  into  every 
dell  and  ravine,  our  enjoyment  was  only  whetted,  not  ex 
hausted.  The  same  scenes  grow  with  every  repetition. 
There  is  not  a  path  or  crooked  lane  among  the  old  houses, 
which  does  not  keep  a  surprise  in  reserve.  The  little 
town,  with  only  here  and  there  a  stone  to  show  for  the 
Past,  with  no  architectural  interest  whatever,  is  neverthe 
less  a  labyrinth  of  picturesque  effects.  In  the  houses,  all 
the  upper  chambers  are  vaulted,  and  the  roofs  domed  above 
them  as  in  the  Orient ;  while  on  one  or  more  sides  there 


A   WEEK   ON   CAPRI.  357 

is  a  loggia  or  arched  veranda,  overhung  with  cornice  of 
grapevines,  or  gay  with  vases  of  blooming  plants.  Thick 
walls,  narrow  windows,  external  staircases,  palm-trees  in 
the  gardens,  and  raised  platforms  of  masonry  placed  so  as 
to  catch  the  breezes  of  summer  nights,  increase  the  resem 
blance  to  the  Orient.  Living  there,  Syria  seems  to  be 
nearer  than  Naples. 

In  the  Val  Tragara,  near  the  sea,  there  is  a  large  de 
serted  monastery,  the  Certosa,  dating  from  the  fourteenth 
century.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  monks  have  either  picked 
out  the  choicest  spot  for  their  abode  or  have  made  it  beau 
tiful  by  their  labor.  The  Certosa  is  still  stately  and  im 
posing  in  its  ruin.  In  the  church  the  plaster  is  peeling  off, 
leaving  patches  of  gay  fresco  on  the  walls  and  ceiling. 
The  sacristy  and  an  adjoining  chapel  are  riddled  with  can 
non-balls;  and  two  recumbent  marble  statues  of  the  foun 
ders,  resting  on  their  sarcophagi,  look  at  each  other  from 
opposite  sides,  and  seem  to  wonder  what  the  desolation 
means.  The  noble  court-yard,  surrounded  with  arched  cor 
ridors,  is  dug  up  for  a  garden  ;  there  is  straw  and  litter  in 
the  crumbling  cells  ;  and  the  prior's  apartment,  with  its 
wonderful  sea  and  coast  views,  is  without  an  occupant. 
The  garden  only  has  not  forgotten  its  former  luxury.  Its 
vines  and  fig-trees  equal  those  of  Crete  and  Syria  ;  and  its 
cactuses  have  become  veritable  trees,  twenty  feet  in  height. 
The  monks  succeeded  in  getting  hold  of  the  best  land  on 
the  island  ;  yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  very  people  they 
impoverished  wish  them  back  again. 

The  Caprese  are  very  devout  and  superstitious.  They 
have  two  devils  (u  Timberio  "  being  one),  and  a  variety  of 
saints.  The  beautiful  little  church  in  the  town,  externally 
so  much  like  a  mosque,  is  filled  with  votive  offerings, 
painted  or  modeled  in  wax,  each  of  which  has  its  own 
story  of  miraculous  interposition  and  escape.  On  one  side 
of  the  nave  sits  in  state  the  Madonna  del  Carmine,  —  a 
life-sized  doll,  with  fair  complexion,  blue  eyes,  and  a  pro- 


358  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

fusion  of  long  curling  tresses  of  real  blonde  hair.  In  her 
lap  she  holds  a  dwarfish  man,  with  hair  of  nearly  equal 
length.  A  dozen  wax-candles  were  burning  before  her,  in 
anticipation  of  her  coming  festa,  which  took  place  before 
we  left  Capri.  She  is  the  patron  saint  of  the  coral-fishers, 
none  of  whom  neglected  to  perform  their  share  of  the  cel 
ebration. 

The  day  was  ushered  in  with  volleys  of  musketry,  and 
the  sounds,  or  rather  cries,  of  the  worst  brass  band  I  ever 
heard,  which  went  from  house  to  house,  blowing,  and  col 
lecting  coppers.  After  the  forenoon  mass,  the  procession 
was  arranged  in  the  church,  and  then  set  out  to  make  the 
tour  of  the  town.  First  came  the  members  of  a  confrater 
nity,  mostly  grizzly  old  men,  in  white  gowns,  with  black 
capes,  lined  with  red  ;  then  followed  a  number  of  small 
boys,  behind  whom  marched  the  coral-fishers,  forty  or  fifty 
in  number  —  brown,  weather-beaten  faces,  burned  by  the 
summers  of  the  African  coast.  They  were  dressed  with 
unusual  care,  and  their  throats  seemed  ill  at  ease  inside  of 
collar  and  cravat.  Every  one  in  the  procession  carried  a 
taper,  which  he  shielded  from  the  wind  with  the  hollow  left 
hand,  while  his  right  managed  also  to  collect  the  melted 
wax.  Next  appeared  the  Madonna,  on  her  litter  of  state, 
followed  by  six  men,  who  bore  her  silken  canopy.  In  her 
train  were  the  priests,  and  about  a  hundred  women  and 
girls  brought  up  the  rear. 

Among  the  latter  there  were  some  remarkably  lovely 
faces.  The  mixture  of  yellow,  blue,  and  scarlet  colors 
which  they  delight  to  wear  contrasted  brilliantly  with  the 
glossy  blackness  of  their  hair  and  the  sunny  richness  of 
their  complexion.  The  island  costume,  however,  is  begin 
ning  to  disappear.  Only  a  few  girls  wore  the  mucadore,  or 
folded  handkerchief,  on  the  head,  while  several  were  grand 
in  wide  silk  skirts  and  crinolines.  The  people  are  not  en 
vious,  but  many  a  longing  glance  followed  these  progres 
sive  maidens. 


A    WKEK    ON   CAPRI.  359 

In  so  small  a  domain  as  Capri,  all  that  happens  is  known 
to  everybody.  A  private  romance  is  not  possible  ;  and  so, 
on  this  occasion,  the  crowd  on  the  little  piazza  were  moved 
by  a  curiosity  which  had  no  relation  to  the  Madonna  del 
Carmine.  The  story,  as  I  received  it,  is  this  :  Nearly  a 
year  ago,  the  aunt  of  a  beautiful  girl  who  was  betrothed  to 
one  of  the  young  coral-fishers  was  visited  by  an  Englishman 
then  staying  at  the  Hotel  Tiberio,  who  declared  to  her  his 
violent  love  for  the  niece,  and  solicited  her  good  offices  to 
have  the  previous  engagement  broken  off.  Soon  after  this 
the  Englishman  left ;  the  aunt  informed  the  girl's  father  of 
the  matter,  the  betrothal  with  the  coral-fisher  was  sus 
pended,  and  the  father  spent  most  of  his  time  in  frequent 
ing  the  hotels  to  ascertain  whether  a  rich  young  English 
man  had  arrived.  A  few  days  before  our  visit  to  Capri, 
the  girl  received  presents  from  her  unseen  and  unknown 
wooer,  with  a  message  requesting  her  not  to  appear  in  the 
procession  of  the  Madonna  del  Carmine.  The  Englishman 
stated  that  he  was  at  the  Hotel  Tiberio.  and  only  waited 
the  arrival  of  certain  papers  in  order  to  claim  her  as  his 
bride.  Thereupon  the  father  came  to  the  hotel,  but  failed 
to  discover  the  mysterious  stranger.  Two  artists,  and 
several  ladies  who  were  there,  offered  to  assist  him  ;  but 
the  mystery  still  remained  unsolved.  Other  letters  and 
presents  came  to  the  girl ;  but  no  young,  rich  Englishman 
could  be  found  on  the  island.  The  artists  and  ladies  took 
up  the  matter  (determined,  I  am  very  glad  to  say,  to  drive 
away  the  Englishman,  if  there  were  one,  and  marry  the 
girl  to  the  coral-fisher),  but  I  have  not  yet  heard  of  any 
denouement.  The  young  fisher  appeared  in  the  procession, 
but  the  girl  did  not ;  consequently,  everybody  knew  that  the 
mysterious  letters  and  presents  had  made  her  faithless. 
For  my  part,  I  hope  the  coral-fisher  —  a  bright,  stalwart, 
handsome  young  fellow  —  will  find  a  truer  sweetheart. 

After  making  the  complete  tour  of  the  town,  which  oc 
cupied  about  half  an  hour,  the  procession  returned  to  the 


360  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

church.  The  coral-fishers  were  grave  and  devout;  one 
could  not  question  their  sincerity.  I  was  beginning  to 
find  the  scene  touching,  and  to  let  my  sympathy  go  forth 
with  the  people,  when  the  sight  of  them  dropping  on  their 
knees  before  the  great,  staring  doll  of  a  Madonna,  as  she 
bobbed  along  on  the  shoulders  of  her  bearers,  turned  all  my 
softness  into  granite.  The  small  boys,  carrying  the  tapers 
before  her,  were  employed  in  trying  to  set  fire  to  each  other's 
shocks  of  uncombed  hair.  Two  of  them  succeeded,  and 
the  unconscious  victims  marched  at  least  a  dozen  steps  with 
blazing  heads,  and  would  probably  have  been  burned  to 
the  scalp  had  not  a  humane  by-stander  extinguished  the 
unfragrant  torches.  Then  everybody  laughed  ;  the  victims 
slapped  those  who  had  set  fire  to  them  ;  and  a  ridiculous 
comedy  was  enacted  in  the  very  presence  of  the  Madonna, 
who,  for  a  moment,  was  the  only  dignified  personage.  The 
girls  in  the  rear  struck  up  a  hymn  without  the  least  regard 
to  unison,  and  joked  and  laughed  together  in  the  midst  of 
it.  The  procession  dissolved  at  the  church  door,  and  not 
a  moment  too  soon,  for  it  had  already  lost  its  significance. 

I  have  purposely  left  the  Blue  Grotto  to  the  last,  as  for 
me  it  was  subordinate  in  interest  to  almost  all  else  that  I 
saw.  Still  it  was  part  of  the  inevitable  programme.  One 
calm  day  we  had  spent  in  the  trip  to  Anacapri,  and  another, 
at  this  season,  was  not  to  be  immediately  expected.  Never 
theless,  when  we  arose  on  the  second  morning  afterwards, 
the  palm-leaves  hung  silent,  the  olives  twinkled  without 
motion,  and  the  southern  sea  glimmered  with  the  veiled 
light  of  a  calm.  Vesuvius  had  but  a  single  peaceful  plume 
of  smoke,  the  snows  of  the  Apulian  Mountains  gleamed 
rosily  behind  his  cone,  and  the  fair  headland  of  Sorrento 
shone  in  those  soft,  elusive,  aerial  grays,  which  must  be  the 
despair  of  a  painter.  It  was  a  day  for  the  Blue  Grotto, 
and  so  we  descended  to  the  marina. 

On  the  strand,  girls  with  disordered  hair  and  beautiful 
teeth  offered  shells  and  coral.  We  found  mariners  readily 


A   WEEK   ON   CAPRI.  3G1 

and,  after  a  little  hesitation,  pushed  off  in  a  large  boat, 
leaving  a  little  one  to  follow.  The  tramontana  had  left  a 
faint  swell  behind  it,  but  four  oars  carried  us  at  a  lively 
speed  along  the  shore.  We  passed  the  ruins  of  the  baths 
of  Tiberius  (the  Palazzo  cC  Mare),  and  then  slid  into  the 
purple  shadows  of  the  cliffs,  which  rose  in  a  sheer  Avail  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  water.  Two  men  sat  on  a  rock, 
fishing  with  poles  ;  and  the  boats  further  off  the  shore  were 
sinking  their  nets,  the  ends  of  which  were  buoyed  up  with 
gourds.  Pulling  along  in  the  shadows,  in  less  than  half  an 
hour  we  sa-w  the  tower  of  Damecuta  shining  aloft,  above  a 
slope  of  olives  which  descended  steeply  to  the  sea.  Here, 
under  a  rough,  round  bastion  of  masonry,  was  the  entrance 
to  the  Blue  Grotto. 

We  were  now  transshipped  to  the  little  shell  of  a  boat 
which  had  followed  us.  The  swell  rolled  rather  heavily 
into  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  the  adventure  seemed  a 
little  perilous,  had  the  boatmen  been  less  experienced.  We 
lay  flat  in  the  bottom  ;  the  oars  were  taken  in,  and  we  had  just 
reached  the  entrance,  when  a  high  wave,  rolling  up,  threat 
ened  to  dash  us  against  the  iron  portals.  "  Look  out ! " 
cried  the  old  man.  The  young  sailor  held  the  boat  back 
with  his  hands,  while  the  wave  rolled  under  us  into  the 
darkness  beyond ;  then,  seizing  the  moment,  we  shot  in 
after  it,  and  were  safe  under  the  expanding  roof.  At  first, 
all  was  tolerably  dark  :  I  only  saw  that  the  water  near  the 
entrance  was  intensely  and  luminously  blue.  Gradually, 
as  the  eye  grew  accustomed  to  the  obscurity,  the  irregular 
vault  of  the  roof  became  visible,  tinted  by  a  faint  reflection 
from  the  water.  The  effect  increased,  the  longer  we  re 
mained  ;  but  the  rock  nowhere  repeated  the  dazzling  sap 
phire  of  the  sea.  It  was  rather  a  blue-gray,  very  beautiful, 
but  far  from  presenting  the  effect  given  in  the  pictures 
sold  at  Naples.  The  silvery,  starry  radiance  of  foam  or 
bubbles  on  the  shining  blue  ground  was  the  loveliest  phe 
nomenon  of  the  grotto.  To  clip  one's  hand  in  the  sea,  and 


362  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

scatter  the  water,  was  to  create  sprays  of  wonderful,  phos 
phorescent  blossoms,  jewels  of  the  Sirens,  flashing  and 
vanishing  garlands  of  the  Undines. 

A  chamber,  and  the  commencement  of  a  gallery  leading 
somewhere,  —  probably  to  the  twelfth  palace  of  Tiberius, 
on  the  headland  of  Damecuta,  —  were  to  be  distinguished 
near  the  rear  of  the  cavern.  But  rather  than  explore  fur 
ther  mysteries,  we  watched  our  chance  and  shot  out,  after 
a  full-throated  wave,  into  the  flood  of  white  daylight  Keep 
ing  on  our  course  around  the  island,  we  passed  the  point  of 
Damecuta,  —  making  a  chord  to  the  arc  of  the  shore,  —  to 
the  first  battery,  beyond  which  the  Anacapri  territory 
opened  fairly  to  view.  From  the  northern  to  the  north 
western  cape  the  coast  sinks,  like  the  side  of  an  amphithea 
tre,  in  a  succession  of  curving  terraces,  gray  with  the 
abundant  olive.  Two  deep,  winding  ravines,  like  the 
ivadies  of  Arabia,  have  been  worn  by  the  rainfall  of  thou 
sands  of  years,  until  they  have  split  the  shore-wall  down  to 
the  sea.  Looking  up  them,  we  could  guess  the  green  banks 
where  the  violets  and  anemones  grew,  and  the  clumps  of 
myrtle  that  perfumed  the  sea-breeze. 

Broad  and  grand  as  was  this  view,  it  was  far  surpassed 
by  the  coast  scenery  to  come.  No  sooner  had  we  passed 
the  pharos,  and  turned  eastward  along  the  southern  shore 
of  the  island,  than  every  sign  of  life  and  laborious  industry 
ceased.  The  central  mountain-wall,  suddenly  broken  off 
as  it  reached  the  sea,  presented  a  face  of  precipice  a  thou 
sand  feet  high,  not  in  a  smooth  escarpment,  as  on  the 
northern  side,  but  cut  into  pyramids  and  pinnacles  of  ever- 
changing  form.  Our  necks  ached  with  gazing  at  the  far 
summits,  piercing  the  keen  blue  deeps  of  air.  In  one 
place  the  vast  gable  of  the  mountain  was  hollowed  into 
arches  and  grottos,  from  the  eaves  of  which  depended 
frino-es  of  stalactite  ;  it  resembled  a  Titanic  cathedral  in 

& 

ruins.  Above  the  orange  and  dove-colored  facets  of  the 
cliff,  the  jagged  topmost  crest  wore  an  ashen  tint  which  no 


A   WEEK   ON  CAPRI. 

longer  suggested  the  texture  of  rock.  It  seemed  rather  a 
soft,  mealy  substance,  which  one  might  crumble  between 
the  fingers.  The  critics  of  the  realistic  school  would  damn 
the  painter  who  should  represent  this  effect  truly. 

Under  these  amazing  crags,  over  a  smooth,  sunny  sea, 
we  sped  along  towards  a  point  where  the  boatman  said  we 
should  find  the  Green  Grotto.  It  lies  inside  a  short,  pro 
jecting  cape  of  the  perpendicular  shore,  and  our  approach 
to  it  was  denoted  by  a  streak  of  emerald  fire  flashing  along 
the  shaded  water  at  the  base  of  the  rocks.  A  few  more 
strokes  on  the  oars  carried  us  under  an  arch  twenty  feet 
high,  which  opened  into  a  rocky  cove  beyond.  The  water 
being  shallow,  the  white  bottom  shone  like  silver ;  and  the 
pure  green  hue  of  the  waves,  filled  and  flooded  with  the 
splendor  of  the  sun,  was  thrown  upon  the  interior  facings 
of  the  rocks,  making  the  cavern  gleam  like  transparent 
glass.  The  dance  of  the  waves,  the  reflex  of  the  "  netted 
sunbeams,"  threw  ripples  of  shifting  gold  all  over  this 
green  ground  ;  and  the  walls  and  roof  of  the  cavern,  so 
magically  illuminated,  seemed  to  fluctuate  in  unison  with 
the  tide.  It  was  a  marvelous  surprise,  making  truth  of 
Undine  and  the  Sirens,  Proteus  and  the  foam-born  Aphro 
dite.  The  brightness  of  the  day  increased  the  illusion,  and 
made  the  incredible  beauty  of  the  cavern  all  the  more 
startling,  because  devoid  of  gloom  and  mystery.  It  was 
an  idyl  of  the  sea,  born  of  the  god-lore  of  Greece.  To 
the  light,  lisping  whisper  of  the  waves,  —  the  sound  near 
est  to  that  of  a  kiss,  —  there  was  added  a  deep,  dim,  sub 
dued  undertone  of  the  swell  caught  in  lower  arches  beyond ; 
and  the  commencement  of  that  fine  posthumous  sonnet  of 
Keats  chimed  thenceforward  in  my  ears  :  — 

"It  keeps  eternal  whisperings  around 
Desolate  shores,  and  with  its  mighty  swell 
Gluts  twice  ten  thousand  caverns,  till  the  spell 
Of  Hecate  leaves  them  their  old  shadowy  sound." 

After  this,  although  the  same  enormous  piles  of  rock 


364  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

overhung  us,  there  were  no  new  surprises.  The  sublimity 
and  the  beauty  of  this  southern  coast  had  reached  their 
climax ;  and  we  turned  from  it  to  lean  over  the  gunwale 
of  the  boat,  and  watch  the  purple  growth  of  sponges 
through  the  heaving  crystal,  as  we  drew  into  the  cove  of 
the  piccola  marina.  There  Augusto  was  waiting  our  ar 
rival,  the  old  fisher  was  ready  with  a  bench,  and  we  took 
the  upper  side  of  Capri. 

My  pen  lingers  on  the  subject,  yet  it  is  time  to  leave. 
When  the  day  of  our  departure  came,  I  wished  for  a  tramon- 
tana,  that  we  might  be  detained  until  the  morrow  ;  but  no, 
it  was  a  mild  sirocco,  setting  directly  towards  Sorrento,  and 
Antonio  had  come  over,  although,  this  time,  without  any 
prediction  of  a  fine  day.  At  the  last  fatal  and  prosaic  mo 
ment,  when  the  joys  that  are  over  must  be  paid  for,  we  found 
Don  Michele  and  Manfred  as  honest  as  they  had  been  kind 
and  attentive.  Would  we  not  come  back  some  time? 
asked  the  Don.  Certainly  we  will. 

When  the  sail  was  set,  and  our  foamy  track  pointed  to 
the  dear  isle  we  were  leaving,  I,  at  least,  was  conscious  of  a 
slight  heart-ache.  So  I  turned  once  more  and  cried  out, 
"Addio,  Capri!"  but  the  stern  Tiberian  rocks  did  not 
respond,  "  Ritornate ! "  and  so  Capri  passed  into  memory. 


A  TRIP   TO   ISCHIA. 


THE  island  of  Jschia,  rising  like  a  loftier  Salamis  at  the 
northern  entrance  of  the  Bay  of  Naples,  is  so  unlike  its  op 
posite  sentinel,  Capri,  that  the  landscape-painter,  to  whom 
the  peculiarities  of  mountain  forms  are  as  familiar  as  to 
the  geologist,  would  pronounce  as  readily  on  the  diversity 
of  its  origin.  The  latter  might  say  :  "  This  island  is  Plu 
tonic,  that  Neptunic ;  "  and  the  former :  "  Here  are  long, 
finely  broken  outlines,  and  sharp,  serrated  summits ;  yon 
der,  broad  masses  and  sudden,  bold  escarpments;"  but 
both  would  express  the  same  fact  in  different  dialects. 
The  two  islands  are  equidistant  from  the  main  land ;  they 
occupy  the  same  relative  position  to  the  bay  and  to  the 
central  Vesuvian  peak ;  they  are  equally  noble  land-marks 
to  the  mariners  coming  from  the  Tyrrhene  or  the  Ionian 
Sea.  Here  the  resemblance  ends.  Capri  is  the  resort  of 
artists,  Ischia  of  invalids.  Tiberius  and  the  Blue  Grotto 
belong  to  the  litany  of  travel ;  but  Ischia  —  larger,  richer, 
more  accessible  than  Capri  —  has  no  such  special  attrac 
tions  to  commend  it.  It  must  be  sought  for  its  own  sake. 

The  little  steamer  upon  which  I  embarked  at  Naples 
was  called  the  Tifeo,  from  Typhffius,  the  Titan  who  lies 
buried  under  Epomeo,  like  Enceladus  under  Etna.  The 
decks  were  crowded ;  but  every  face  was  Italian,  and  every 
tongue  uttered  the  broad,  barbaric  dialect  of  Southern 
Italy.  Priests,  peasant-women,  small  traders,  sailors,  and 
fishermen  were  mingled  in  a  motley  mass,  setting  their 
faces  together  in  earnest  gossip,  and  turning  their  backs 
upon  sea,  shore,  and  sky.  As  we  passed  Castell*  dell'  Ovo, 
the  signs  of  the  recent  terrible  land-slide  on  the  rock  of 
Pizzofalcone  drew  their  attention  for  a  minute  ;  and  I,  too, 


368  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

looked  with  a  shudder  at  the  masses  of  rock  under  which 
I  had  lived,  unsuspectingly,  until  within  three  days  of  the 
catastrophe.  The  house  wherein  we  had  chosen  quarters 
was  crushed  to  atoms  ;  and,  although  nearly  a  month  had 
elapsed,  the  great  pile  of  ruin  was  not  yet  cleared  away. 

Onward  over  the  bright  blue  sea, — past  the  shores  of 
Posilippo,  the  marine  villa  of  Lucullus,  and  the  terraced 
steep,  yonder,  where  the  poet  Silius  Italicus  kept  sacred 
the  tomb  of  his  master.  Virgil,  —  past  the  burnt-out  crater 
of  Nisicla,  and  the  high,  white  houses  of  Pozzuoli,  until  the 
bay  of  ISaiae  opens  to  the  right,  and  we  fetch  a  compass 
for  the  ancient  Cape  Misenum.  How  these  names  stir  the 
blood  !  Yet  my  fellow-voyagers  never  lifted  their  eyes  to 
the  shores  ;  and  if  they  mentioned  the  names,  it  was,  per 
haps,  to  say,  u  I  bought  some  pigs  at  Baia3  the  other  day," 
or,  "  What  is  land  worth  about  Lake  Avernus  ?  "  or,  "  Do 
you  raise  pumpkins  at  Cumae  ?  " 

Between  Cape  Misenum  and  the  island  of  Procida  there 
is  a  strait  two  or  three  miles  in  width.  The  town  of  Pro 
cida  rests  on  the  water  like  a  long,  white  wedge,  the  butt  of 
which  bears  up  the  immense  old  fortress.  Approaching 
from  Naples,  the  whole  island  lies  before  the  loftier  Ischia 
like  Imbros  before  Samothrace,  and  seems  to  belong  to  it, 
as  ancient  geographers  declare  that  it  once  did.  The  town 
is  like  a  seaport  of  the  Grecian  Archipelago,  and,  as  seen 
from  the  water,  one  could  not  wish  it  cleaner  or  less  irreg 
ular.  Fronting  the  sea,  it  presents  a  crescent  of  tall  white 
houses,  broken  with  arched  balconies,  and  deep,  scattered 
windows,  and  stained  with  patches  of  gray  and  moss-green. 
Over  the  domed  roofs  rises  here  and  there  a  palm.  The 
castle  to  the  left,  on  its  rock,  rejoices  in  its  ancient  strength, 
and  seems  to  command  the  Bay  of  Gaeta  as  well  as  that  of 
Naples. 

I  tried  to  recall  something  of  the  history  of  Procida. 
and  struck  in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  on  the 
famous  Giovanni,  —  "  John  of  Procida,"  —  before  and  after 


A   TRIP   TO  ISCHIA.  369 

whom  there  was  a  blank.  The  island  once  belonged  to 
him  in  toto,  and  must  have  been  a  goodly  possession.  T 
believe  he  lost  it  for  a  time,  on  account  of  the  part  which 
he  took  in  the  Sicilian  Vespers.  Meanwhile  the  steamer 
came  to  a  stop  in  the  little  port,  and  boats  crowded  about 
the  gangways.  I  determined  to  go  the  length  of  the  island 
towards  Ischia  by  land,  and  so  scrambled  down  with  the  rest. 

I  landed  on  a  narrow  quay,  so  filthy  and  malodorous  that 
I  made  haste  to  accept  the  guidance  of  the  first  boy  who 
offered  his  services.  He  led  me  into  a  street  just  as  bad  ; 
but,  as  we  mounted  towards  the  castle,  the  aspect  of  the 
town  improved.  This  is  the  only  place  in  Italy  where  the 
holiday  costume  is  Greek,  and  one  might  therefore  expect 
to  find  faces  of  the  Hellenic  type  ;  yet  such  are  fewer  than 
on  Capri.  The  costume  disappears  more  and  more,  and 
only  on  grand  festas  do  the  women  appear  in  bodices  em 
broidered  with  gold,  and  gowns  edged  with  the  ancient 
labyrinth  pattern.  They  have  splendid  eyes,  like  all  the 
islanders  ;  but  I  saw  no  beauties  in  my  rapid  march  across 
Procida. 

After  the  view  from  the  castle,  there  is  really  nothing  of 
interest  in  the  little  town.  The  island  is  low  and  nearly 
level,  so  that  the  high  walls  which  inclose  the  road  shut 
out  all  view  of  its  vineyards  and  gardens.  The  eastern 
shore,  near  which  my  path  led,  is  formed  by  three  neighbor 
ing  craters,  the  rims  of  which  are  broken  down  on  the  sea 
side,  and  boats  anchor  on  the  lava  of  the  bottoms.  The 
road  was  almost  a  continuous  street,  the  suburb  of  Procida 
running  into  that  of  the  large  village  of  L'  Olmo.  A  crowd 
of  wayfarers  went  to  and  fro,  and  in  all  the  open  arches 
women  sat  spinning  in  the  sun.  There  were  no  beggars  ; 
one  of  the  women,  indeed,  called  across  the  road  to  another, 
as  I  passed,  "  Ask  him  for  a  bajocco ! "  but  the  latter 
laughed,  and  turned  her  head  aside.  Although  so  little  of 
the  island  was  to  be  seen,  there  was  no  end  to  the  pictures 
made  by  the  windings  of  the  road,  the  walls  draped  with 
24 


370  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

fern  and  ivy,  the  deep  arches  of  shade  with  bright,  sunlit 
court-yards  behind  them,  and  the  quaint  terraces  overhung 
with  vines. 

A  walk  of  two  miles  brought  me  to  the  western  shore? 
where  the  road  descended  to  the  fishing  hamlet  of  Chiai- 
olella.  The  place  seemed  to  be  deserted ;  I  walked  be 
tween  the  silent  old  houses,  and  had  nearly  reached  the 
beach,  when  a  brown  old  mariner  glided  out  from  the 
shadow  of  a  buttress,  and  followed  me.  Some  boats  lay  on 
the  sand  in  the  little  land-locked  crater-bay ;  and  presently 
three  other  men,  who  had  been  sleeping  somewhere  in  the 
corners,  came  forward,  scenting  a  fee.  Of  course  they  asked 
too  much  ;  but,  to  my  surprise,  they  gradually  abated  the 
demand,  although  there  was  no  competition.  The  old  man 
said,  very  frankly,  "  If  you  give  us  a  franc  apiece,  we  shall 
only  make  ten  sous,  and  we  should  like  to  earn  a  little 
more."  We  thereupon  soon  came  to  terms  ;  two  of  them 
carried  me  into  the  boat,  and  we  set  off  for  Ischia. 

Just  beyond  the  last  point  of  Procida  rises  the  rocky 
island  of  Vivara,  which  is  nothing  but  a  fragment  left  from 
the  ruin  of  a  volcanic  crater.  Its  one  slanting  side  is 
covered  with  olive-trees,  and  a  single  house  stands  on  the 
summit.  The  landing-place  is  a  rocky  shelf  a  yard  or  so  in 
width,  only  accessible  when  the  sea  is  quite  smooth.  The 
island  belongs  to  Signer  Scotti,  of  Procida,  so  the  boatmen 
told  me,  but  he  is  too  shrewd  to  live  upon  it.  As  we  floated 
past  it  into  the  open  strait,  the  Bay  of  Gaeta  opened  broadly 
on  the  right,  stretching  away  to  the  far  Cape  of  Circe, 
beyond  Terracina.  In  front  Ischia,  grand  in  its  nearness, 
possessed  the  sea.  One  is  here  still  in  Odyssean  waters. 
Here  Homer  once  sailed,  so  sure  as  there  ever  was  a 
Homer,  and  heard  Typhoeus  groaning  under  Inarime. 
What  Kinglake  so  finely  says  of  the  Troad  is  here  equally 
true.  The  theories  of  scholars  go  to  the  winds  ;  one  learns 
to  believe  in  Homer,  no  less  than  in  Moses. 

The  picture  of  Ischia,  from  the  sea,  is  superb.     In  front 


A   TRIP    TO   ISCHIA.  371 

towers  the  castle,  on  a  thrice  bolder  and  broader  wedge  of 
rock  than  that  of  Procida ;  withdrawn  behind  it,  as  if  for 
protection,  the  white  crescent  of  the  town  sweeps  along  the 
water ;  garden-groves  rise  in  the  rear,  then  great,  climbing 
slopes  of  vine,  and,  high  over  all,  Monte  Epoineo  converges 
the  broken  outlines  of  the  island,  and  binds  them  together 
in  his  knotted  peak.  The  main  features  are  grandly  broad 
and  simple,  yet  there  is  an  exquisite  grace  and  harmony  in 
the  minor  forms  of  the  landscape.  As  we  ran  under  the 
shadows  of  the  castle-rock,  whereon  the  Marquis  Pescara 
was  born,  my  thoughts  were  involuntarily  directed  to  two 
women,  —  his  sister,  the  heroic  Costanza,  whose  defense  of 
the  castle  gave  the  governorship  of  Ischia  to  her  family  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ;  and  his  wife,  Vittoria  Colonna. 
Her,  however,  we  remember  less  as  the  Marchesa  Pescara 
than  as  the  friend  of  Michael  Angelo,  in  whose  arms  she 
died.  Theirs  was  the  only  friendship  between  man  and 
woman,  which  the  breath  of  that  corrupt  age  did  not  dare 
to  stain,  —  noble  on  both  sides,  and  based  on  the  taste  and 
energy  and  intellect  of  both.  Vittoria,  of  whom  Ariosto 
says,  — 

"Vittoria  6  '1  nome;  e  ben  conviensi  a  nata 
Fra  le  vittorie," 

retired  to  this  castle  of  Ischia  to  mourn  her  husband's 
death.  Strange  that  her  sorrow  excites  in  us  so  little 
sympathy  ;  while,  at  this  distance  of  time,  the  picture  of 
Michael  Angelo  after  her  death  gives  us  a  pang.  Moral,  — 
it  is  better  to  be  the  friend  of  a  great  artist  than  the  wife  of 
a  great  general. 

The  landing  at  Ischia  is  as  attractive  as  that  at  Procida 
is  repulsive.  The  town  conies  clown  to  the  bright,  sunny 
quay  in  a  broad,  clean  street ;  the  houses  are  massive,  and 
suggestive  of  comfort,  and  there  are  glimpses  of  the  richest 
gardens  amonsf  them.  "  You  must  £0  to  the  locanda  nobitr" 

o  &  O 

said  the  sailors  ;  and  to  make  sure  they  went  with  me.  It 
is,  in  fact,  the  only  tolerable  inn  in  the  place  ;  yet  my  first 


372  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

impression  was  not  encouraging.  The  locanda  consisted  of 
a  large  hall,  filled  with  mattresses,  a  single  bare  bedroom, 
and  the  landlord's  private  quarters.  The  only  person  I  saw 
was  a  one-eyed  youth,  who  came  every  five  minutes,  while  I 
sat  watching  the  splendid  sunset  illumination  of  the  castle 
and  sea,  to  ask,  "  Shall  I  make  your  soup  with  rice  or  mac 
aroni  ?"  "Will  you  have  your  fish  fried  or  in  umido?" 
Notwithstanding  all  this  attention,  it  was  a  most  meagre 
dinner  which  he  finally  served,  and  I  longed  for  the  flesh- 
pots  of  Capri.  In  spite  of  Murray,  artists  are  not  stoics, 
and  where  they  go  the  fare  is  wont  to  be  good.  The  Eng 
lish  guide  says,  very  complacently  :  "  Such  or  such  an  hotel 
is  third-rate,  patronized  ly  artists  .'"  or,  "  The  accommoda 
tions  are  poor  ;  but  artists  may  find  them  sufficient !  "  —  as  if 
"  artists  "  had  no  finer  habits  of  palate  or  nerves  !  When  I 
contrasted  Pagano's  table  in  Capri  with  that  of  the  nobile 
locanda  of  Ischia,  I  regretted  that  artists  had  not  been  stay 
ing  at  the  latter. 

In  walking  through  the  two  cold  and  barren  rooms  of  the 
hotel  I  had  caught  a  glimpse,  through  an  open  door,  of  a 
man  lying  in  bed,  and  an  old  Franciscan  friar,  in  a  brown 
gaberdine,  hanging  over  him.  Now,  when  my  Lenten 
dinner  (although  it  was  Carnival)  was  finished,  the  padrona 
came  to  me,  and  said :  "  Won't  you  walk  in  and  see  Don 
Michele  ?  He's  in  bed,  sick,  but  he  can  talk,  and  it  will 
pass  away  the  time  for  him." 

"  But  the  Frate  "  —  here  I  hesitated,  thinking  of  extreme 
unction. 

"  0,  never  mind  the  Frate,"  said  the  padrona  ;  "  Don 
Michele  knows  you  are  here,  and  he  wants  to  have  a  talk 
with  you." 

The  invalid  landlord  was  a  man  of  fifty,  who  lay  in  bed, 
groaning  with  a  fearful  lumbago,  as  he  informed  me.  At 
the  foot  of  the  bed  sat  the  old  friar,  gray-headed,  with  a 
snuffy  upper  lip,  and  an  expression  of  amiable  imbecility  on 
his  countenance.  The  one-eyed  servant  was  the  landlord's 


A   TRIP    TO   ISCHIA.  373 

son;  and  there  were  two  little  daughters,  one  of  whom, 
Filomena,  carried  the  other,  Maria  Teresa.  There  was 
also  a  son,  a  sailor,  absent  in  Egypt.  "  Four  left  out  of 
twelve,"  said  Don  Michele ;  u  but  you  notice  there  will  soon 
be  thirteen ;  so  I  shall  have  five,  if  the  Lord  wills  it." 

"  And  so  you  are  from  America,"  he  continued  ;  "  my  son 
was  there,  but,  whether  in  North  or  South,  I  don't  know. 
They  say  there  is  cholera  in  Africa,  and  I  hope  the  saints 
will  protect  him  from  it.  Here  on  Ischia  —  as  perhaps  you 
don't  know  —  we  never  had  the  cholera  ;  we  have  a  saint 
who  keeps  it  away  from  the  island.  It  was  San  Giuseppe 
della  Croce,  and  nobody  can  tell  how  many  miracles  he  has 
wrought  for  us.  He  left  a  miraculous  plant,  —  it's  inside 
the  castle,  —  and  there  it  grows  to  this  day,  with  wonderful 
powers  of  healing ;  but  no  one  dares  to  touch  it.  If  you 
were  to  so  much  as  break  a  leaf,  all  Ischia  would  rise  in 
revolution." 

"  What  a  benefit  for  the  island  !  "  I  remarked. 

"  Ah,  you  may  well  say  that !  "  exclaimed  Don  Michele. 
"•  Here  everything  is  good,  —  the  fish,  the  wine,  the  people. 
There  are  no  robbers  among  us,  —  no,  indeed  !  You  may 
go  where  you  like,  and  without  fear,  as  the  Frate  will  tell 
you.  This  is  my  brother"  (pointing  to  the  friar).  "  I  am 
affiliated  with  the  Franciscans,  and  so  he  comes  to  keep  me 
company." 

The  friar  nodded,  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  smiled  in  the 
vague,  silly  way  of  a  man  who  don't  know  what  to  say. 

"  I  have  met  many  of  your  brethren  in  the  Holy  Land," 
I  said,  to  the  latter. 

"  Gran  Dio  !  you  have  been  there  ?  "  both  exclaimed. 

I  must  needs  tell  them  of  Jerusalem  and  Jericho,  of 
Nazareth  and  Tiberias  ;  but  Don  Michele  soon  came  back 
to  America.  "  You  are  one  of  the  nobility,  I  suppose  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  What ! "  I  answered,  affecting  a  slight  indignation  ; 
"  don't  you  know  that  we  have  no  nobility  ?  All  are  equal 


374  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

before  the  law,  and  the  poorest  man  may  become  the  high 
est  ruler,  if  he  has  the  right  degree  of  intelligence."  (I  was 
about  to  add,  and  honesty,  but  checked  myself  in  time.) 

"Do  you  hear  that?"  cried  Don  Michele  to  the  friar. 
"  I  call  that  a  fine  thing." 

"  Che  bella  cosa  !  "  repeated  the  friar,  as  he  took  a  fresh 
pinch  of  snuff. 

"  What  good  is  your  nobility  ?  "  I  continued.  "  They 
monopolize  the  offices,  they  are  poor  and  proud,  and  they 
won't  work.  The  men  who  do  the  most  for  Italy  are  not 
nobles." 

"  True  !  true !  listen  to  that ! "  said  Don  Michele.  "  And 
so,  in  America,  all  have  an  equal  chance  ?  " 

"  If  you  were  living  there,"  I  answered,  "  your  son,  if  he 
had  talents,  might  become  the  governor  of  a  State,  or  a 
minister  to  a  foreign  court.  Could  he  be  that  here,  what 
ever  mio-ht  be  his  intellect?" 

& 

"  Gran  Dio  !      Che  bella  cosa  !  "  said  the  friar. 

"  It  is  the  balance  of  Astraea  ! "  cried  Don  Michele,  for 
getting  his  lumbago,  and  sitting  up  in  bed.  I  was  rather 
astonished  at  this  classical  allusion  ;  but  it  satisfied  me  that 
I  was  not  improvidently  wasting  my  eloquence  ;  so  I  went 
on  :  — 

"  What  is  a  title  ?  Is  a  man  any  the  more  a  man  for 
having  it  ?  He  may  be  a  duke  and  a  thief,  and,  if  so,  I  put 
him  far  below  an  honest  fisherman.  Are  there  titles  in 
heaven  ?  "  Here  I  turned  to  the  friar. 

"  Behold  !  A  noble  —  a  beautiful  word  ! "  cried  the  Don 
ao-ain.  The  friar  lifted  his  hands  to  heaven,  shook  his  head 

& 

in  a  melancholy  way.  and  took  another  pinch  of  snuff. 

We  were  in  a  fair  way  to  establish  the  universal  fraternal 
republic,  when  a  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  us.  It  was 
Don  Michele's  sister,  accompanied  by  an  old  man,  and  a 
young  one,  with  a  handsome  but  taciturn  face. 

"  Ah,  here  is  my  fgliaccio  !  "  said  Don  Michele,  beckon- 
\n<r  forward  the  latter.  "  He  will  furnish  a  donkey,  and 


A   TRIP    TO   ISCHIA.  375 

guide  you  all  over  Ischia  —  up  to  the  top  of  Epomeo,  to 
Fori',  and  Casamich'." 

Now  I  had  particularly  requested  a  young  and  jovial 
fellow,  not  one  of  your  silent  guides,  who  always  hurry  you 
forward  when  you  want  to  pause,  and  seem  to  consider  you 
as  a  bad  job,  to  be  gotten  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible.  Gio 
vanni's  was  not  the  face  I  desired,  but  Don  MSchele  in 
sisted  stoutly  that  he  was  the  very  man  for  me ;  and  so  the 
arrangement  was  concluded. 

I  went  to  bed,  feeling  more  like  a  guest  of  the  family 
than  a  stranger ;  and,  before  sleeping,  determined  that  I 
would  make  an  experiment.  The  rule  in  Italy  is,  that  the 
man  who  does  not  bargain  in  advance  is  inevitably  cheated  ; 
here,  however,  it  seemed  that  I  had  stumbled  on  an  unso 
phisticated  region.  I  would  make  no  bargains,  ask  no  mis 
trustful  questions,  and  test  the  natural  honesty  of  the 
people. 

Mounted  on  the  ass,  and  accompanied  by  Giovanni,  I  left 
the  locanda  nobile  the  next  morning  to  make  the  tour  of  the 
island.  "  Be  sure  and  show  him  everything  and  tell  him 
everything ! "  cried  Don  Michele,  from  his  bed ;  whereat 
Giovanni,  with  a  short  "  Yes  !  "  which  promised  nothing  to 
my  ear,  led  the  way  out  of  the  town. 

We  ascended  the  low  hill  on  which  the  town  is  built, 
under  high  garden  walls,  overhung  by  the  most  luxuriant 
foliage  of  orange  and  olive.  There  were  fine  cypresses, — 
a  tree  rare  in  Southern  Italy,  —  and  occasional  palms.  We 
very  soon  emerged  into  the  country,  where  Epomeo 
towered  darkly  above  us,  in  the  shadow  of  clouds  which 
the  sirocco  had  blown  from  the  sea.  The  road  was  not 
blinded  by  walls,  as  on  Procida,  but  open  and  broad,  wind 
ing  forward  between  vineyards  of  astonishing  growth. 
Here  the  threefold  crops  raised  on  the  same  soil,  about 
Naples  and  Sorrento,  would  be  impossible.  In  that  rich 
volcanic  earth  wheat  is  only  the  parterre  or  ground-floor  of 
cultivation.  The  thin  shade  of  the  olive,  or  the  young 


01 0  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

leaves  of  vine,  do  not  intercept  sun  enough  to  hinder  its 
proper  maturity ;  and  thus  oil  or  wine  (or  sometimes  both) 
becomes  a  higher  crop,  a  bel  etage ;  while  the  umbrella- 
pines,  towering  far  above  all,  constitute  an  upper  story  for 
the  production  of  lumber  and  firewood.  Ischia  has  the 
same  soil,  but  the  vine,  on  account  of  the  superior  quality 
of  its  juice,  is  suffered  to  monopolize  it.  Stems  of  the 
thickness  of  a  man's  leg  are  trained  back  and  forth  on 
poles  thirty  feet  high.  The  usual  evergreen  growths  of 
this  region,  which  make  a  mimicry  of  summer,  have  no 
place  here ;  far  and  wide,  high  and  low,  the  landscape  is 
gray  with  vines  and  poles.  I  can  only  guess  what  a  Bac 
chic  labyrinth  it  must  be  in  the  season  of  vintage. 

The  few  trees  allowed  to  stand  were  generally  fig  or 
Avalnut.  There  are  no  orange-groves,  as  about  Sorrento, 
for  the  reason  that  the  wine  of  Ischia,  being  specially  im 
ported  to  mix  with  and  give  fire  and  temper  to  other 
Italian  wines,  is  a  very  profitable  production.  The  little 
island  has  a  population  of  about  thirty  thousand,  very  few 
of  whom  are  poor,  like  the  inhabitants  of  Capri.  During 
rny  trip  I  encountered  but  a  single  beggar,  who  was  an  old 
woman  on  crutches.  Yet,  although  the  fields  were  gray, 
the  banks  beside  the  road  were  bright  with  young  grass, 
and  gay  with  violets,  anemones,  and  the  golden  blossoms 
of  the  broom. 

On  our  left  lay  the  long  slopes  of  Monte  Campagnano, 
which  presents  a  rocky  front  to  the  sea.  Between  this 
mountain  and  Epomeo  the  road  traversed  a  circular  valley, 
nearly  a  mile  in  diameter,  as  superbly  rich  as  any  of  the 
favored  gardens  of  Syria.  The  aqueduct  which  brings 
water  from  the  mountains  to  the  town  of  Ischia  crosses  it 
on  lofty  stone  arches.  Beyond  this  valley,  the  path  entered 
a  singular  winding  ravine  thirty  or  forty  feet  in  depth,  and 
barely  wide  enough  for  two  asses  to  pass  each  other.  Its 
walls  of  rock  were  completely  hidden  in  mosses  and  ferns, 
and  old  oak-trees,  with  ivied  trunks,  threw  their  arms 


A   TRIP    TO   ISCHIA.  377 

across  it.  The  country  people,  in  scarlet  caps  and  velvet 
jackets,  on  their  way  to  enjoy  the  festa  (the  Carnival)  at 
the  villages,  greeted  me  with  a  friendly  "  buon  dl !  "  I  was 
constantly  reminded  of  those  exquisitely  picturesque  passes 
of  Arcadia,  which  seem  still  to  be  the  haunts  of  Pan  and 
the  Nymphs. 

Bishop  Berkeley,  whose  happiest  summer  (not  even  ex 
cepting  that  he  passed  at  Newport)  was  spent  on  Ischia, 
must  have  frequently  travelled  that  path  ;  and,  without 
having  seen  more  of  the  island,  I  was  quite  willing  to  ac 
cept  his  eulogies  of  its  scenery.  I  had  some  difficulty, 
however,  in  adjusting  to  the  reality  Jean  Paul's  imaginary 
description,  which  it  is  conventional  to  praise,  in  Germany. 
The  mere  enumeration  of  orange-trees,  olives,  rocks,  chest 
nut  woods,  vines,  and  blue  sea,  blended  into  a  glimmering 
whole,  with  no  distinct  outlines,  does  not  constitute  de 
scription  of  scenery.  An  author  ventures  upon  dangerous 
ground,  when  he  attempts  to  paint  landscapes  which  he  has 
never  seen.  Jean  Paul  had  the  clairvoyant  faculty  of  the 
poet, and  was  sometimes  able  to  "make  out"  (to  use  Char 
lotte  Bronte's  expression)  Italian  atmospheres  and  a  tol 
erable  dream  of  scenery  ;  but  he  would  have  described  Is 
chia  very  differently  if  he  had  ever  visited  the  island. 

Winding  on  and  upward  through  the  ravine,  I  emerged 
at  last  on  the  sunny  hillside,  whence  there  was  a  view  of 
the  sea  beyond  Monte  Campagnano.  A  little  further,  we 
reached  the  village  of  Barano,  on  the  southeastern  slope 
of  Epomeo  —  a  deep,  gray  gorge  below  it,  and  another  vil 
lage  beyond,  sparkling  in  the  sun.  The  people  were  con 
gregated  on  the  little  piazza,  enjoying  the  day  in  the  com- 
j'letest  idleness.  The  place  was  a  picture  in  itself,  and  I 
should  have  stopped  to  sketch  it,  but  Giovanni  pointed  to 
the  clouds  which  were  hovering  over  Epomeo,  and  pre 
dicted  rain.  So  T  pushed  on  to  Moropano,  the  next  vil 
lage,  the  southern  side  of  the  island  opening  more  clearly 
and  broadly  to  view.  A  succession  of  vine-terraces 


378  BY-WAYS   OF  EUEOPE. 

mounted  from  the  sea  to  a  height  of  two  thousand  feet, 
ceasing  only  under  the  topmost  crags.  At  intervals,  how 
ever,  the  slopes  were  divided  by  tremendous  fissures,  worn 
hundreds  of  feet  deep  through  the  ashen  soil  and  volcanic 
rock.  Wherever  a  little  platform  of  shelving  soil  had  been 
left  on  the  sides  of  the  sheer  walls,  it  was  covered  with  a 
growth  of  oaks. 

The  road  obliged  me  to  cross  the  broadest  of  these 
chasms,  and,  after  my  donkey  had  once  fallen  on  the  steep 
jjath  notched  along  the  rock,  I  judged  it  safest  to  climb 
the  opposite  side  on  foot.  A  short  distance  further  we 
came  to  another  fissure,  as  deep  but  much  narrower,  and 
resembling  the  cracks  produced  by  an  earthquake.  The 
rocky  walls  were  excavated  into  wine-cellars,  the  size  of 
which,  and  of  the  tuns  within,  gave  good  token  of  the  Is- 
chian  vintages.  Out  of  the  last  crevice  we  climbed  to  the 
village  of  Fontana,  the  highest  on  the  island.  A  review 
of  the  National  Guards  was  held  in  a  narrow  open  space 
before  the  church.  There  were  perhaps  forty  men  —  fish 
ermen  and  vine-growers  —  under  arms,  all  with  military 
caps,  although  only  half  a  dozen  had  full  uniforms.  The 
officers  fell  back  to  make  room  for  me,  and  I  passed  the 
company  slowly  in  review,  as  I  rode  by  on  the  donkey. 
The  eyes  were  "  right,"  as  I  commenced,  but  they  moved 
around  to  left,  curiously  following  me,  while  the  heads  re 
mained  straight.  Gallant-looking  fellows  they  were  never 
theless  ;  and  moreover,  it  was  pleasant  to  see  a  militia 
system  substituted  for  the  former  wholesale  conscription. 

At  the  end  of  the  piazza,  a  dry  laurel-bush  hanging  over 
the  door,  denoted  a  wine-shop  ;  and  Giovanni  and  I  emp 
tied  a  bottle  of  the  Fontana  vintage  before  going  further.  I 
ordered  a  dinner  to  be  ready  on  our  return  from  Epomeo, 
and  we  then  set  out  for  the  hermitage  of  San  Nicola,  on  the 
very  summit.  In  a  ravine  behind  the  village  we  met  a  man 
carrying  almost  a  stack  of  straw  on  his  head,  his  body  so 
concealed  by  it  that  the  mass  seemed  to  be  walking  upon 


A    TRIP   TO   ISCHIA.  379 

its  own  feet.  It  stopped  on  approaching  us,  and  an  unin 
telligible  voice  issued  from  it ;  but  Giovanni  understood 
the  sounds. 

"  The  hermit  of  San  Nicola  is  sick,"  he  said ;  "  this  is  his 
brother." 

"  Then  the  hermit  is  alone  on  the  mountain  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No,  he  is  now  in  Fontana.  When  he  gets  sick,  he 
comes  clown,  and  his  brother  goes  up  in  his  place,  to  keep 
the  lamp  a-burning." 

We  were  obliged  to  skirt  another  fissure  for  some  dis 
tance,  and  then  took  to  the  open  side  of  the  mountain, 
climbing  between  fields  where  the  diminishing  vines  strug 
gled  to  drive  back  the  mountain  gorse  and  heather.  In 
half  an  hour  the  summit  was  gained,  and  I  found  myself  in 
front  of  a  singular,  sulphur-colored  peak,  out  of  which  a 
chapel  and  various  chambers  had  been  hewn.  A  man  ap 
peared,  breathless  with  climbing  after  us,  and  proved  to  be 
the  moving  principle  of  the  straw-stack.  He  unlocked  a 
door  in  the  peak,  and  allowed  the  donkey  to  enter ;  then, 
conducting  me  by  a  passage  cut  in  the  living  rock,  he  led 
the  way  through,  out  of  the  opposite  side,  and  by  a  flight 
of  rude  steps,  around  giddy  corners,  to  a  platform  about  six 
feet  square,  on  the  very  topmost  pinnacle  of  the  island, 
2,700  feet  above  the  sea. 

Epomeo  was  an  active  volcano  until  just  before  Vesuvius 
awakened,  in  A.  D.  79 ;  and  as  late  as  the  year  1302  there 
was  an  eruption  on  Ischia,  at  the  northern  base  of  the 
mountain.  But  the  summit  now  scarcely  retains  the  crater 
form.  The  ancient  sides  are  broken  in,  leaving  four  or  five 
jagged  peaks  standing  apart ;  and  these,  from  the  platform 
on  which  I  stood,  formed  a  dark,  blasted  foreground,  shaped 
like  a  star  with  irregular  rays,  between  which  I  looked  down 
and  off  on  the  island,  the  sea,  and  the  Italian  shores.  The 
clouds,  whose  presence  I  had  lamented  during  the  ascent, 
now  proved  to  be  marvelous  accessories.  Swooping  so  low 
that  their  skirts  touched  me,  they  covered  the  whole  vault 


380  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

of  heaven,  down  to  the  sea  horizon,  with  an  impenetrable 
veil ;  yet,  beyond  their  sphere,  the  sunshine  poured  full  upon 
the  water,  which  became  a  luminous  under-sky,  sending  the 
reflected  light  upward  on  the  island  landscape.  In  all  my 
experience,  I  have  never  beheld  such  a  phenomenon. 
Looking  southward,  it  was  scarcely  possible  not  to  mistake 
the  sea  for  the  sky  ;  and  this  illusion  gave  the  mountain  an 
immeasurable,  an  incredible  height.  All  the  base  of  the 
island  —  the  green  shores  and  shining  towns  visible  in 
deep  arcs  between  the  sulphury  rocks  of  the  crater  — 
basked  in  dazzling  sunshine  ;  and  the  gleam  was  so  intense 
and  golden  tinder  the  vast,  dark  roof  of  cloud,  that  I  know 
not  how  to  describe  it.  From  the  Cape  of  Circe  to  that  of 
Palinurus,  two  hundred  miles  of  the  main-land  of  Italy  were 
full  in  view.  Vesuvius  may  sweep  a  wider  horizon,  but  the 
view  from  Epomeo,  in  its  wondrous  originality,  is  far  more 
impressive. 

When  I  descended  from  the  dizzy  pinnacle,  I  found 
Giovanni  and  the  hermit's  brother  drying  their  shirts 
before  a  fire  of  brush.  The  latter,  after  receiving  a  fee  for 
his  services,  begged  for  an  additional  fee  for  St.  Nicholas. 
"  What  does  St.  Nicholas  want  with  it  ?  "  I  asked.  "  You 
will  buy  food  and  drink,  I  suppose,  but  the  saint  needs 
nothing."  Giovanni  turned  away  his  head,  and  I  saw  that 
he  was  laughing. 

"  O,  I  can  burn  a  lamp  for  the  saint,"  was  the  answer. 

Now,  as  St.  Nicholas  is  the  patron  of  children,  sailors, 
and  travellers,  I  might  well  have  lit  a  lamp  in  his  honor ; 
but  as  I  could  not  stay  to  see  the  oil  purchased  and  the 
lamp  lighted,  with  my  own  eyes,  I  did  not  consider  that 
there  was  sufficient  security  in  the  hermit's  brother  for 
such  an  investment. 

When  I  descended  to  Fontana  the  review  was  over,  and 
several  of  the  National  Guards  were  refreshing  themselves 
in  the  wine-shop.  The  black-bearded  host,  who  looked  like 
an  affectionate  bandit,  announced  that  he  had  cooked  a  pig's 


A   TRIP   TO  ISCIIIA.  881 

liver  for  us,  and  straight-way  prepared  a  table  in  the  shop 
beside  the  counter.  There  was  but  one  plate,  but  Giovanni, 
who  kept  me  company,  ate  directly  from  the  dish.  I  have 
almost  a  Hebrew  horror  of  fresh  pork  ;  but  since  that  day  I 
confess  that  a  pig's  liver,  roasted  on  skewers,  and  flavored 
with  the  smoke  of  burning  myrtle,  is  not  a  dish  to  be  de 
spised.  Eggs  and  the  good  Ischian  wine  completed  the  re 
past  ;  and  had  I  not  been  foolish  enough  to  look  at  the  host 
as  he  wiped  out  the  glasses  with  his  unwashed  fingers,  I 
should  have  enjoyed  it  the  more. 

The  other  guests  were  very  jolly,  but  I  could  comprehend 
little  of  their  jargon  when  they  spoke  to  each  other.  The 
dialect  of  Ischia  is  not  only  different  from  that  of  Capri,  but 
varies  on  different  sides  of  the  island.  Many  words  are 
identical  with  those  used  on  Sardinia  and  Majorca ;  they 
have  a  clear,  strong  ring,  which  —  barbaric  as  it  may  be  — 
I  sometimes  prefer  to  the  pure  Italian.  For  instance, 
freddo  (with  a  tender  lingering  on  the  double  d)  suggests 
to  me  only  a  bracing,  refreshing  coolness,  while  in  the 
Ischian  frett  one  feels  the  sharp  sting  of  frost.  Filicaja's 
pathetic  address  to  Italy,  — 

"  Deh  fossi  tu  men  bella,  o  almen  piii  forte  !  " 

might  also  be  applied  to  the  language.  The  elision  of  the 
terminal  vowels,  which  is  almost  universal  in  this  part  of 
Italy,  roughens  the  language,  certainly,  but  gives  it  a  more 
masculine  sound. 

When  the  people  spoke  to  me,  they  were  more  careful  in 
the  choice  of  words,  and  so  made  themselves  intelligible. 
They  were  eager  to  talk  and  ask  questions,  and  after  one 
of  them  had  broken  the  ice  by  pouring  a  bottle  of  wine  into 
a  glass,  while  he  drank  from  the  latter  as  fast  as  he  poured, 
the  Captain  of  the  Guard,  with  many  apologies  for  the 
liberty,  begged  to  know  where  I  came  from. 

"  Now  tell  me,  if  you  please,"  he  continued,  "  whether 
your  country  is  Catholic  or  Protestant?" 


382  BY-WAYS   OF  EUKOPE. 

"  Neither,"  said  I ;  "it  is  better  than  being  either." 

The  people  pricked  up  their  ears,  and  stared.  "  How  do 
you  mean  ?  "  some  one  presently  asked. 

"  All  religions  are  free.  Catholics  and  Protestants  have 
equal  rights  ;  and  that  is  best  of  all  —  is  it  not  ?  " 

There  was  a  unanimous  response.  "  To  be  sure  that  is 
best  of  all !  "  they  cried  ;  "  avete  ragione" 

"  But,"  said  the  Captain,  after  a  while,  "  what  religion  is 
your  government  ?  " 

"  None  at  all,"  I  answered. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  he  ;  "  surely  it  is  a  Christian 
government." 

It  was  easy  to  explain  my  meaning,  and  I  noticed  that 
the  village  magistrate,  who  had  entered  the  shop,  listened 
intently.  He  was  cautiously  quiet,  but  I  saw  that  the  idea 
of  a  separation  of  Church  and  State  was  not  distasteful  to 
the  people.  From  religion  we  turned  to  politics,  and  I  gave 
them  a  rough  sketch  of  our  republican  system.  Moreover^ 
as  a  professed  friend  of  Italian  nationality,  I  endeavored  to 
sound  them  in  regard  to  their  views  of  the  present  crisis. 
This  was  more  delicate  ground ;  yet  two  or  three  spoke 
their  minds  with  tolerable  plainness,  and  with  more  judg 
ment  and  moderation  than  I  expected  to  find.  On  two 
points  all  seemed  to  be  agreed,  —  that  the  people  must  be 
educated,  and  must  have  patience. 

In  the  midst  of  the  discussion  a  mendicant  friar  appeared, 
barefooted,  and  with  a  wallet  on  his  shoulder.  He  was  a 
man  of  thirty,  of  tall  and  stately  figure,  and  with  a  singu 
larly  noble  and  refined  countenance.  He  did  not  beg,  but 
a  few  bajocchi  were  handed  to  him,  and  the  landlord  placed 
a  loaf  of  bread  on  the  counter.  As  he  was  passing  me, 
without  asking  alms.  I  gave  him  some  money,  which  he 
took  with  a  slight  bow  and  the  words,  "  Providence  will 
requite  you."  Though  so  coarsely  dressed,  he  was  not  one 
of  those  friars  who  seem  to  think  filth  necessary  to  their 
holy  character.  I  have  rarely  seen  a  man  whose  features 


A   TRIP    TO   ISCHIA.  383 

and  bearing  harmonized  so  ill  with  his  vocation.  He  looked 
like  a  born  teacher  and  leader ;  yet  he  was  a  useless  beggar. 

The  rain,  which  had  come  up  during  dinner,  now  cleared 
away,  and  I  resumed  my  journey.  Giovanni,  who  had  made 
one  or  two  desperate  efforts  at  jollity  during  the  ascent  of 
the  mountain,  was  remarkably  silent  after  the  conversation 
in  the  inn,  and  I  had  no  good  of  him  thenceforth.  A  mis 
trustful  Italian  is  like  a  tortoise ;  he  shuts  up  his  shell,  and 
crow-bars  can't  open  him.  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  that 
Giovanni  believed,  in  his  dull  way,  in  the  temporal  power 
of  the  Pope  and  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons. 

There  were  no  more  of  the  great  volcanic  fissures  to  be 
crossed.  The  road,  made  slippery  by  the  rain,  descended 
so  rapidly  that  I  was  forced  to  walk  during  the  remainder 
of  the  day's  journey.  It  was  a  country  of  vines,  less  pic 
turesque  than  I  had  already  passed  ;  but  the  sea  and  south 
western  shore  of  the  island  were  constantly  in  view.  I  first 
reached  the  little  village  of  Serrara,  on  a  projecting  spur  of 
Epomeo  ;  then,  after  many  steep  and  rugged  descents,  came 
upon  the  rich  garden-plain  of  Panza.  Here  the  surface  of 
the  island  is  nearly  level,  the  vegetation  is  wonderfully 
luxuriant,  and  the  large  gray  farm-houses  have  a  stately 
and  commanding  air.  In  another  hour,  skirting  the  west 
ern  base  of  Epomeo,  the  towers  of  Foria,  my  destination  for 
the  night,  came  into  view.  There  were  some  signs  of  the 
Carnival  in  the  lively  streets  —  here  and  there  a  mask, 
followed  by  shouting  and  delighted  children ;  but  the 
greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  contented  themselves  with 
sitting  on  the  doorsteps  and  exchanging  jokes  with  their 
neighbors. 

The  guide-book  says  there  is  no  inn  in  Foria.  Don 
Michele,  however,  assured  me  that  Signor  Scotti  kept  a 
locanda  for  travellers,  and  I  can  testify  that  the  Don  is 
right.  I  presume  it  is  "  noble,"  also,  for  the  accommoda 
tions  were  like  those  in  Ischia.  On  entering,  I  was  re 
ceived  by  a  woman,  who  threw  back  her  shoulders  and 


384  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE, 

lifted  her  head  in  such  an  independent  way  that  I  asked, 
«*  Are  you  the  padrona  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  laughing  ;  "  I'm  the  modestica  ;  but 
that  will  do  just  as  well."  (She  meant  domestica,  but  I  like 
her  rendering  of  the  word  so  well  that  I  shall  retain  it.) 

"  Can  you  get  me  something  for  dinner  ?  " 

"  Let  us  see,"  said  she,  counting  upon  her  fingers  ;  "  fish, 
that's  one  ;  kid,  that's  two  ;  potatoes,  that's  three ;  and  — 
and  —  surely  there's  something  else." 

"  That  will  do,"  said  I ;  -  and  eggs  ?  " 

"  Sicuro  !  Eggs  ?  I  should  think  so.  And  so  that  will 
suit  your  Excellency  !  " 

Thereupon  the  modestica  drew  back  her  shoulders,  threw 
out  her  chest,  and,  in  a  voice  that  half  Foria  might  have 
heard,  sang  I  know  not  what  song  of  triumph  as  she  de 
scended  to  the  kitchen.  Signor  Scotti,  for  whom  a  messen 
ger  had  been  sent,  now  arrived.  He  had  but  one  eye,  and 
I  began  to  imagine  that  I  was  on  the  track  of  the  Arabian 
Prince.  After  a  few  polite  commonplaces,  I  noticed  that 
he  was  growing  uneasy,  and  said,  "  Pray,  let  me  not  keep 
you  from  the  Carnival." 

"  Thanks  to  your  Excellency,"  said  he,  rising ;  "  my  pro 
fession  calls  me,  and  with  your  leave  I  will  withdraw."  I 
supposed  that  he  might  be  a  city  magistrate,  but  on  ques 
tioning  the  modestica,  when  she  came  to  announce  dinner, 
I  found  that  he  was  a  barber. 

I  was  conducted  into  a  bedroom,  in  the  floor  of  which  the 
m.odestica  opened  a  trap-door,  and  bade  me  descend  a  pre 
cipitous  flight  of  steps  into  the  kitchen.  There  the  table 
was  set,  and  I  received  my  eggs  and  fish  directly  from  the 
fire.  The  dessert  was  peculiar,  consisting  of  raw  stalks  of 
anise,  cut  off  at  the  root,  very  tough,  and  with  a  sickly  sweet 
flavor.  Seeing  that  I  rejected  them,  the  modestica  ex 
claimed,  in  a  strident  voice,  — 

"  Eh  ?  What  would  you  have  ?  They  are  beautiful,  — 
they  are  superb  !  The  gentry  eat  them,  — nay,  what  do  I 


A    TRIP    TO   ISCHIA.  385 

know  ?  —  the  King  himself,  and  the  Pope  !  Behold  !  " 
And  with  these  words  she  snatched  a  stalk  from  the  plate* 
and  crunched  it  between  two  rows  of  teeth  which  it  was 
a  satisfaction  to  see. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  as  I  was  in  the  bedroom  which 
had  been  given  to  my  use,  a  horribly  rough  voice  at  my  back 
exclaimed,  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

I  turned,  and  beheld  an  old  woman  as  broad  as  she  was 
short,  —  a  woman  with  fierce  eyes  and  a  gray  mustache  on 
her  upper  lip. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  I  rejoined. 

She  measured  me  from  head  to  foot,  gave  a  grunt,  and 
said,  "  I'm  the  padrona  here." 

I  was  a  little  surprised  at  this  intrusion,  and  considerably 
more  so,  half  an  hour  afterwards,  as  I  sat  smoking  in  the 
common  room,  at  the  visit  of  a  gendarme,  who  demanded 
my  passport.  After  explaining  to  him  that  the  document 
had  never  before  been  required  in  free  Italy,  —  that  the  law 
did  not  even  oblige  me  to  carry  it  with  me,  —  I  handed  it  to 
him. 

He  turned  it  up  and  down,  and  from  side  to  side,  with  a 
puzzled  air.  "  I  can't  read  it,"  he  said,  at  last. 

"  Of  course  you  can't,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  there  is  no  better 
passport  in  the  world,  and  the  Governor  of  Naples  will  tell 
you  the  same  thing.  Now,"  I  added,  turning  to  the  padrona, 
"  if  you  have  sent  for  this  officer  through  any  suspicion  of 
me,  I  will  pay  for  my  dinner  and  go  on  to  Casaftnicciola, 
where  they  know  how  to  receive  travellers."  "^tak 

The  old  woman  lifted  up  her  hands,  and  called  on  the 
saints  to  witness  that  she  did  not  mistrust  me.  The  gen 
darme  apologized  for  his  intrusion,  adding  :  "  We  are  out 
of  the  way,  here,  and  therefore  I  am  commanded  to  do  this 
duty.  I  cannot  read  your  passport,  but  I  can  see  that  you 
are  a  galantuomo" 

This  compliment  obliged  me  to  give  him  a  cigar,  after 
which  I  felt  justified  in  taking  a  little  revenge.  "  I  am  a 
25 


386  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

republican,"  I  cried,  "  and  a  friend  of  the  Italian  Republi 
cans  !  I  don't  believe  in  the  temporal  power  of  the  Pope  ! 
I  esteem  Garibaldi !  " 

"  Who  doesn't  esteem  him  ?  "  said  the  old  woman,  but 
with  an  expression  as  if  she  didn't  mean  it.  The  gendarme 
twisted  uneasily  on  his  seat,  but  he  had  lighted  my  cigar, 
and  did  not  feel  free  to  leave. 

I  shall  not  here  repeat  my  oration,  which  spared  neither 
the  Pope,  nor  Napoleon  the  Third,  nor  even  Victor  Eman- 
uel.  I  was  as  fierce  and  reckless  as  Mazzini,  and  exhausted 
my  stock  of  Italian  in  advocating  freedom,  education,  the 
overthrow  of  priestly  rule,  and  the  abolition  of  the  nobility. 
When  I  stopped  to  take  breath,  the  gendarme  made  his 
escape,  and  the  padrona's  subdued  manner  showed  that  she 
began  to  be  afraid  of  me. 

In  the  evening  there  was  quite  an  assemblage  in  the 
room,  —  two  Neapolitan  engineers,  a  spruce  young  Forian, 
a  widow  with  an  unintelligible  story  of  grievances,  and  the 
never-failing  modestica,  who  took  her  seat  on  the  sofa,  and 
made  her  tongue  heard  whenever  there  was  a  pause.  I  grew 
so  tired  with  striving  to  unravel  their  dialect,  that  I  fell 
asleep  in  my  chair,  and  nearly  tumbled  into  the  brazier  of 
coals  ;  but  the  chatter  went  on  for  hours  after  I  was  in  bed. 

In  the  heavenly  morning  that  followed  I  walked  about  the 
town,  which  is  a  shipping  port  of  wine.  The  quay  was  piled 
with  tuns,  purple-stained.  The  situation  of  the  place,  at  the 
foot  of  Epomeo,  with  all  the  broad  Tyrrhene  sea  to  the  west 
ward,  is  very  beautiful,  and,  as  usual,  a  Franciscan  monas 
tery  has  usurped  the  finest  position.  No  gardens  can  be 
richer  than  those  in  the  rear,  mingling  with  the  vineyards 
that  rise  high  on  the  mountain  slopes. 

After  the  modestica  had  given  me  half  a  tumbler  of  coffee 
and  a  crust  of  bread  for  my  breakfast,  I  mounted  the  donkey, 
and  set  out  for  Casamicciola.  The  road  skirts  the  sea  for  a 
short  distance,  and  then  enters  a  wild  dell,  where  I  saw 
clumps  of  ilex  for  the  first  time  on  the  island.  After  a  mile 


A   TRIP    TO    ISCIIIA.  887 

of  rugged,  but  very  beautiful,  scenery,  the  dell  opened  on 
the  northern  shore  of  Ischia,  and  I  saw  the  bright  town 
and  sunny  beach  of  Lacco  below  me.  There  was  a  sudden 
and  surprising  change  in  the  character  of  the  landscape. 
Dark,  graceful  carob-trees  overhung  the  road  ;  the  near 
gardens  were  filled  with  almonds  in  light  green  leaf,  and 
orange-trees  covered  with  milky  buds  ;  but  over  them,  afar 
and  aloft,  from  the  edge  of  the  glittering  sapphire  to  the 
sulphur-crags  of  the  crowning  peak,  swept  a  broad,  grand 
amphitheatre  of  villas,  orchards,  and  vineyards.  Gayly 
colored  palaces  sat  on  all  the  projecting  spurs  of  Epomeo, 
rising  above  their  piles  of  garden  terraces ;  and,  as  I  rode 
along  the  beach,  the  palms  and  cypresses  in  the  gardens 
above  me  were  exquisitely  pencilled  on  the  sky.  Here 
everything  spoke  of  old  cultivation,  of  wealth  and  luxurious 
clays. 

In  the  main  street  of  Lacco  I  met  the  gendarme  of 
Foria,  who  took  off  his  cocked  hat  with  an  air  of  respect, 
which,  however,  produced  no  effect  on  my  donkey-man  ? 
Giovanni.  We  mounted  silently  to  Casamicciola,  which, 
as  a  noted  watering-place,  boasts  of  hotels  with  Neapolitan 
prices,  if  not  comforts.  I  felt  the  need  of  one,  and  selected 
the  Sentinella  Grande  on  account  of  its  lordly  position.  It 
WAS  void  of  guests,  and  I  was  obliged  to  wait  two  hours  for 
a  moderate  breakfast.  The  splendor  of  the  day,  the  per 
fect  beauty  of  the  Ischian  landscapes,  and  the  soft  hum 
ming  of  bees  around  the  wall-flower  blossoms,  restored  my 
lost  power  to  enjoy  the  dolce  far  niente,  and  I  had  forgotten 
all  about  my  breakfast  when  it  was  announced. 

From  Casamicciola  it  is  little  more  than  an  hour's  ride 
to  Ischia,  and  my  tour  of  the  island  lacked  but  that  much 
of  completion.  The  season  had  not  commenced,  and  the 
marvelous  healing  fountains  and  baths  were  deserted  ;  yet 
the  array  of  stately  villas,  the  luxury  of  the  gardens,  and 
the  broad,  well-made  roads,  attested  the  popularity  of  the 
watering-place.  Such  scenery  as  surrounds  it  is  not  sur- 


3SS  BY-WAYS   OF   EUKOPE. 

passed  by  any  on  the  Bay  of  Naples.  I  looked  longingly 
up  at  the  sunny  mountain -slopes  and  shadowed  glens,  as  I 
rode  away.  What  I  had  seen  was  but  the  promise,  the 
hint,  of  a  thousand  charms  which  I  had  left  unvisited. 

On  the  way  to  Ischia  I  passed  the  harbor,  which  is  a 
deep  little  crater  connected  with  the  sea  by  an  artificial 
channel.  Beside  it  lies  the  Casino  Reale,  with  a  magnifi 
cent  park,  uninhabited  since  the  Bourbons  left.  Beyond 
it  I  crossed  the  lava-fields  of  1302,  which  are  still  unsub 
dued.  Here  and  there  a  house  has  been  built,  some  pines 
have  been  planted,  clumps  of  broom  have  taken  root,  and 
there  are  a  few  rough,  almost  hopeless,  beginnings  of  fields. 
Having  passed  this  dreary  tract,  the  castle  of  Ischia  sud 
denly  rose  in  front,  and  the  bright  town  received  me.  I 
parted  from  the  taciturn  Giovanni  without  tears,  and  was 
most  cordially  welcomed  by  Don  Michele,  his  wife,  the  one- 
eyed  son,  and  the  Franciscan  friar.  The  Don's  lumbago 
was  not  much  better,  and  the  friar's  upper  lip,  it  seemed  to 
me,  was  more  snuffy  than  ever. 

In  the  evening  I  heard  what  appeared  to  be  a  furious 
altercation.  I  recognized  Don  Michele's  voice,  threaten 
ing  vengeance,  at  its  highest  pitch,  while  another  voice, 
equally  excited,  and  the  screams  of  women,  gave  additional 
breath  to  the  tempest.  But  when  I  asked  my  one-eyed 
servitor,  "  What  in  Heaven's  name  has  happened  ? "  he 
mildly  answered,  "  0,  it's  only  the  uncle  discoursing  with 
papa! " 

I  arose  at  dawn,  the  next  day,  to  take  the  steamer  for 
Naples.  The  flaming  jets  of  Vesuvius,  even  against  the 
glowing  morning  sky,  were  visible  from  my  window,  twenty- 
five  miles  distant.  I  was  preparing  to  bid  farewell  to 
Ischia  with  a  feeling  of  profund  satisfaction.  My  experi 
ment  had  succeeded  remarkably  well.  I  had  made  no 
bargains  in  advance,  and  had  not  been  overcharged  to  the 
extent  of  more  than  five  francs  during  the  whole  trip. 
But  now  came  the  one-eyed  son,  with  a  bill  fifty  per  cent. 


A  TRIP   TO   ISCHIA.  389 

higher  than  at  first,  for  exactly  the  same  accommodation. 
This,  too,  after  I  had  promised  to  send  my  friends  to  the 
locanda  nobile,  and  he  had  written  some  very  grotesque 
cards,  which  I  was  to  disseminate. 

Don  Michele  was  calling  me  to  say  good-hy.  I  went  to 
his  chamber,  and  laid  the  grotesque  cards  upon  the  bed. 
"  Here  !  "  I  exclaimed  ;  "  I  have  no  use  for  these.  I  shall 
recommend  no  friends  of  mine  to  this  hotel.  You  ask 
another  price  now  for  the  same  service." 

The  Don's  countenance  fell.  "  But  we  kept  the  same 
room  for  you,"  he  feebly  urged. 

"  Of  course  you  kept  it,"  I  said,  "because  you  have  no 
other,  and  nobody  came  to  take  it !  This  is  not  the  bal 
ance  of  Astraea !  You  lament  over  the  condition  of  Italy, 
—  you  say  she  has  fallen  behind  the  other  nations  of 
Europe,  —  and  here  is  one  of  the  causes  !  So  long  as  you, 
and  the  people  of  whom  you  are  one,  are  dishonest,  —  so 
long  as  you  take  advantage  of  strangers,  —  just  so  long  will 
you  lack  the  order,  the  security,  the  moral  force  which 
every  people  possess  who  are  ashamed  to  descend  to  such 
petty  arts  of  cheating  !  " 

"  Ma  —  Signore  !  "  pleaded  Don  Michele. 

'k  It  is  true  !  "  I  continued  ;  "  I,  who  am  a  friend  of  Italy, 
say  it  to  you.  You  talk  of  corruption  in  high  places,  — 
begin  your  reforms  at  home  !  Learn  to  practice  common 
honesty ;  teach  your  children  to  do  it ;  respect  yourselves 
sufficiently  to  be  above  such  meanness,  and  others  will  re 
spect  you.  What  were  my  fine,  my  beautiful  words  worth 
to  you  ?  1  thought  I  was  sowing  seed  on  good  ground  " 

"  Signore,  Signore,  hear  me  !  "  cried  the  Don. 

"  I  have  only  one  word  more  to  say,  and  that  is  Addio  ! 
and  not  a  rivederci !  I  am  going,  and  I  shall  not  come 
back  again." 

Don  Michele  jumped  up  in  bed,  but  I  was  already  at  the 
door.  I  threw  it  open,  closed  it  behind  me,  and  dashed 
down  the  stairs.  A  faint  cry  of  "  Signore  !  "  followed  me. 


390  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

Ill  two  minutes  more  I  was  on  the  pier,  waiting  for  the 
steamer  to  come  around  the  point  from  Casamicciola.  The 
sweet  morning  air  cooled  my  excitement,  and  disposed  me 
to  gentler  thoughts.  I  fancied  Don  Michele  in  his  bed, 
mortified  and  repentant,  and  almost  regretted  that  I  had 
not  given  him  a  last  chance  to  right  himself  in  my  eyes. 
Moreover,  reviewing  the  incidents  of  my  trip,  I  was  amused 
at  the  part  which  I  had  played  in  it.  Without  the  least 
intent  or  premeditation,  I  had  assumed  the  character  of  a 
missionary  of  religious  freedom,  education,  and  the  Univer 
sal  Republic.  But  does  the  reader  suppose  that  I  imagine 
any  word  thus  uttered  will  take  root,  and  bring  forth  fruit, 
—  that  any  idea  thus  accidentally  planted  will  propagate 
itself  further  ? 

No,  indeed ! 


THE   LAND  OF  PAOLL 


THE  Leghorn  steamer  slid  smoothly  over  the  glassy  Tyr 
rhene  strait,  and  sometime  during  the  night  came  to  an 
chor  in  the  harbor  of  Bastia.  I  sat  up  in  my  berth  at  sun 
rise,  and  looked  out  of  the  bull's  eye  to  catch  my  first  near 
glimpse  of  Corsican  scenery ;  but,  instead  of  that,  a  pair 
of  questioning  eyes,  set  in  a  brown,  weather-beaten  face, 
met  my  own.  It  was  a  boatman  waiting  on  the  gangway, 
determined  to  secure  the  only  fare  which  the  steamer  had 
brought  that  morning.  Such  persistence  always  succeeds, 
and  in  this  case  justly  ;  for  when  we  were  landed  upon  the 
quay,  shortly  afterwards,  the  man  took  the  proffered  coin 
with  thanks,  and  asked  for  no  more. 

Tall,  massive  houses  surrounded  the  little  circular  port. 
An  old  bastion  on  the  left,  —  perhaps  that  from  which  the 
place  originally  took  its  name,  —  a  church  in  front,  and 
suburban  villas  and  gardens  on  the  shoulders  of  the  steep 
mountain  in  the  rear,  made  a  certain  impression  of  pride 
and  statcliness,  notwithstanding  the  cramped  situation  of 
the  city.  The  Corsican  coast  is  here  very  bold  and  abrupt, 
and  the  first  advantage  of  defense  interferes  with  the  pres 
ent  necessity  of  growth. 

At  that  early  hour  few  persons  were  stirring  in  the 
streets.  A  languid  officer  permitted  us  to  pass  the  douane 
and  sanitary  line ;  a  large-limbed  boy  from  the  mountains 
became  a  porter  for  the  nonce ;  and  a  waiter,  not  fully 
awake,  admitted  us  into  the  "  Hotel  d'Europe,"  a  building 
with  more  space  than  cleanliness,  more  antiquated  furni 
ture  than  comfort.  It  resembled  a  dismantled  palace  - 
huge,  echoing,  dusty.  The  only  tenants  we  saw  then,  or 
later,  were  the  waiter  aforesaid,  who  had  not  yet  learned 


?>9A  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

the  ordinary  wants  of  a  traveller,  and  a  hideous  old  womanr 
who  twice  a  day  deposited  certain  oily  and  indescribable 
dishes  upon  a  table  in  a  room  which  deserved  the  name  of 
manger,  in  the  English  sense  of  the  word . 

However,  I  did  not  propose  to  remain  long  in  Bastia ; 
Corte,  the  old  capital  of  Paoli,  in  the  heart  of  the  island, 
was  my  destination.  After  ascertaining-  that  a  dilio-ence 

v  C?  <D 

left  for  the  latter  place  at  noon,  we  devoted  an  hour  or  two* 
to  Bastia.  The  breadth  and  grandeur  of  the  principal 
streets,  the  spacious  new  place  with  a  statue  of  Napoleon 
in  a  Roman  toga,  the  ample  harbor  in  process  of  con 
struction  to  the  northward,  anc?  the  fine  coast-views  from 
the  upper  part  of  the  city,  were  matters  of  surprise.  The 
place  has  grown  rapidly  within  the  past  fifteen  years,  and 
now  contains  twenty-five  thousand  inhabitants.  Its  geo 
graphical  situation  is  good.  The  dagger-shaped  Cape 
Corso,  rich  with  fruit  and  vines,  extends  forty  miles  to  the 
northward  ;  westward,  beyond  the  mountains,  lie  the  fortu 
nate  lands  of  Nebbio  and  the  Balagna,  while  the  coast 
southward  has  no  other  harbor  for  a  distance  of  seventy 
or  eighty  miles.  The  rocky  island  of  Capraja,  once  a 
menace  of  the  Genoese,  rises  over  the  sea  in  the  direction 
of  Leghorn  ;  directly  eastward,  and  nearer,  is  Elba,  and 
far  to  the  southeast,  faintly  seen,  Monte  Cristo,  —  the  three 
representing  mediaeval  and  modern  history  and  romance, 
and  repeating  the  triple  interest  which  clings  around  the 
name  of  Corsica. 

The  growth  of  Bastia  seems  to  have  produced  but  little 
effect,  as  yet,  on  the  character  of  the  inhabitants.  They 
have  rather  the  primitive  air  of  mountaineers  ;  one  looks 
in  vain  for  the  keenness,  sharpness,  and,  alas !  the  dishon 
esty,  of  an  Italian  seaport  town.  Since  the  time  of  Seneca, 
who,  soured  by  exile,  reported  of  them,  — 

l>  Prima  est  ulcisci  lex,  altera  vivere  raptu, 
Tertia  mentiri,  quarta  negare  Deos,  "  — 

the  Corsicans  have  not  been  held  in  good  repute.     Yet  our 


THE  LAND   OF   PAOLI.  39f> 

first  experience  of  them  was  by  no  means  unprepossessing. 
We  entered  a  bookstore,  to  get  a  map  of  the  island. 
While  I  was  examining  it,  an  old  gentleman,  with  the  Le 
gion  of  Honor  in  his  button-hole,  rose  from  his  seat,  took 
the  sheet  from  my  hands,  and  said  :  "  What's  this  ?  what's 
this  ?"  After  satisfying  his  curiosity,  he  handed  it  back  to 
me,  and  began  a  running  fire  of  questions:  "Your  first 
visit  to  Corsica  ?  You  are  English  ?  Do  you  speak  Italian  ? 
your  wife  also  ?  Do  you  like  Bastia  ?  does  she  also  ?  How 
long  will  you  stay?  Will  she  accompany  you  ?"  etc.  I  an 
swered  with  equal  rapidity,  as  there  was  nothing  obtrusive 
in  the  old  man's  manner.  The  questions  soon  came  to  an 
end,  and  then  followed  a  chapter  of  information  and  advice, 
which  was  very  welcome. 

The  same  naive  curiosity  met  us  at  every  turn.  Even 
the  rough  boy  who  acted  as  porter  plied  me  with  questions, 
yet  was  just  as  ready  to  answer  as  to  ask.  I  learned  much 
more  about  his  situation  and  prospects  than  was  really  nec 
essary,  but  the  sum  of  all  showed  that  he  was  a  fellow 
determined  to  push  his  way  in  the  world.  Self-confidence 
is  a  common  Corsican  trait,  which  Napoleon  only  shared 
with  his  fellow-islanders.  The  other  men  of  his  time  who 
were  either  born  upon  Corsica  or  lived  there  for  a  while  — 
Pozzo  di  Borgo,  Bernadotte,  Massena,  Murat,  Sebastiani  — 
seem  to  have  caught  the  infection  of  this  energetic,  self- 
reliant  spirit. 

In  Bastia  there  is  neither  art  nor  architecture.  It  is  a 
well-built,  well-regulated,  bustling  place,  and  has  risen  in 
latter  years  quite  as  much  from  the  growth  of  Italian  com 
merce  as  from  the  favor  of  the  French  government.  From 
the  quantity  of  small  coasting  craft  in  the  harbor,  I  should 
judge  that  its  trade  is  principally  with  the  neighboring 
shores.  In  the  two  book-shops  I  found  many  devotional 
works  and  Renucci's  History,  but  only  one  copy  of  the 
Storiche  Corse,  which  I  was  glad  to  secure. 

When  the  hour  of  departure  came,  we  found  the  inquis- 


306  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

itive  old  gentleman  at  the  diligence  office.  He  was  our 
companion  in  the  coupe,  and  apparently  a  personage  of 
some  note,  as  at  least  a  score  of  friends  came  to  bid  him 
adieu.  To  each  of  these  he  announced  in  turn  :  "  These 
are  my  travelling  companions  —  an  American  gentleman 
and  his  wife.  They  speak  French  and  Italian  ;  they  have 
never  been  in  Corsica  before ;  they  are  going  to  Corte  ; 
they  travel  for  pleasure  and  information."  Then  there 
were  reciprocal  salutations  and  remarks ;  and  if  the  pos 
tilion  had  not  finally  given  the  signal  to  take  our  places, 
we  should  soon  have  been  on  speaking  terms  with  half 
Bastia. 

The  road  ran  due  south,  along  the  base  of  the  moun 
tains.  As  we  passed  the  luxuriant  garden-suburbs,  our 
companion  pointed  out  the  dusky  glitter  of  the  orange- 
trees,  and  exclaimed :  "  You  see  what  the  Corsican  soil 
produces.  But  this  is  nothing  to  the  Balagna.  There 
you  will  find  the  finest  olive  culture  of  the  Mediterranean. 
I  was  prefect  of  the  Balagna  in  1836,  and  in  that  year  the 
exportation  of  oil  amounted  to  six  millions  of  francs,  while 
an  equal  quantity  was  kept  for  consumption  in  the  island." 

Brown  old  villages  nestled  high  up  in  the  ravines  on  our 
right ;  but  on  the  left  the  plain  stretched  far  away  to  the 
salt  lake  of  Biguglia,  the  waters  of  which  sparkled  between 
the  clumps  of  poplars  and  elms  studding  the  meadows. 
The  beds  of  the  mountain  streams  were  already  nearly 
dry,  and  the  summer  malaria  was  beginning  to  gather  on 
the  low  fields  through  which  they  wandered.  A  few 
peasants  were  cutting  and  tedding  hay  here  and  there,  or 
lazily  hauling  it  homewards.  Many  of  the  fields  were 
given  up  to  myrtle  and  other  wild  and  fragrant  shrubs ; 
but  there  were  far  too  few  workers  abroad  for  even  the 
partial  cultivation. 

Beyond  the  lake  of  Biguglia,  and  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Golo  River,  is  the  site  of  Mariana,  founded  by  Marius. 
Except  a  scattering  of  hewn  stones,  there  are  no  remains 


THE  LAND   OF   PAOLI.  397 

of  the  Roman  town  ;  but  the  walls  of  a  church  and  chapel 
of  the  Middle  Ages  are  still  to  be  seen.  The  only  other 
Roman  colony  on  Corsica  —  Aleria,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Tavignano  —  was  a  restoration  of  the  more  ancient  Alalia, 
which  tradition  ascribes  to  the  Phoceans.  Notwithstand 
ing  the  nearness  of  the  island  to  the  Italian  coast,  and 
its  complete  subjection  to  the  Empire,  its  resources  were 
imperfectly  developed  by  the  Romans,  and  the  accounts  of 
it  given  by  the  ancient  writers  are  few  and  contradictory. 
Strabo  says  of  the  people  :  "  Those  who  inhabit  the  moun 
tains  live  from  plunder,  and  are  more  untamable  than  wild 
beasts.  When  the  Roman  commanders  undertake  an  ex 
pedition  against  the  island,  and  possess  themselves  of  the 
strongholds,  they  bring  back  to  Rome  many  slaves  ;  and 
then  one  sees  with  astonishment  the  savage  animal  nature 
of  the  people.  For  they  either  take  their  own  lives  vio 
lently,  or  tire  out  their  masters  by  their  stubbornness  and 
stupidity  ;  whence,  no  matter  how  cheaply  they  are  pur 
chased,  it  is  always  a  bad  bargain  in  the  end." 

Here  we  have  the  key  to  that  fierce,  indomitable  spirit 
of  independence  which  made  the  Genoese  occupation  one 
long  story  of  warfare  ;  which  produced  such  heroes  as 
Sumbucuccio,  Sampieri,  and  Paoli ;  and  which  exalted  Cor 
sica,  in  the  last  century,  to  be  the  embodiment  of  the  dem 
ocratic  ideas  of  Europe,  and  the  marvelous  forerunner  of 
the  American  Republic.  Verily,  Nature  is  "  careful  of  the 
type."  After  the  Romans,  the  Vandals  possessed  Corsica  ; 
then  the  Byzantine  Greeks  ;  then,  in  succession,  the  Tuscan 
Barons,  the  Pisans,  and  the  Genoese  —  yet  scarcely  one  of 
the  political  forms  planted  among  them  took  root  in  the 
character  of  the  islanders.  The  origin  of  the  Corsican  Re 
public  lies  back  of  all  our  history  ;  it  was  a  natural  growth, 
which  came  to  light  after  the  suppression  of  two  thousand 
years. 

As  we  approached  the  gorge  through  which  the  Golo 
breaks  its  way  to  the  sea.  the  town  of  Borgo,  crowning  a 


893  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

mountain  summit,  recalled  to  memory  the  last  Corsican 
victory,  when  Clement  Paoli,  on  the  1st  of  October,  1768, 
defeated  and  drove  back  to  Bastia  a  French  force  much 
greater  than  his  own.  Clement,  the  brooding  monk  in  his 
cloister,  the  fiery  leader  of  desperate  battle,  is  even  a 
nobler  figure  than  his  brother  Pascal  in  the  story  of  those 
days. 

We  changed  horses  at  an  inn  under  the  mountain  of 
Borgo,  and  then  entered  the  valley  of  the  Golo,  leaving  the 
main  road,  which  creeps  onward  to  Bonifacio  through 
lonely  and  malarious  lands.  The  scenery  now  assumed  a 
new  aspect.  No  more  the  blue  Tyrrhene  Sea,  with  its 
dreams  of  islands  ;  a  valley  wilder  than  any  infolded 
among  the  Appenines  opened  before  us.  Slopes  covered 
with  chestnut  groves  rose  on  either  side  ;  slant  ravines 
mounted  between  steep  escarpments  of  rock  ;  a  village  or 
two,  on  the  nearer  heights,  had  the  appearance  of  refuge 
and  defense,  rather  than  of  quiet  habitation,  and  the  brown 
summits  in  the  distance  held  out  no  promise  of  softer 
scenes  beyond. 

Our  companion,  the  prefect,  pointed  to  the  chestnut 
groves.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  is  the  main  support  of  our 
people  in  the  winter.  Our  Corsican  name  for  it  is  'the 
bread  tree.'  The  nuts  are  ground,  and  the  cakes  of  chest 
nut-flour,  baked  on  the  hearth,  and  eaten  while  fresh,  are 
really  delicious.  We  could  not  live  without  the  chestnut 
and  the  olive." 

The  steep  upper  slopes  of  the  mountains  were  covered 
with  ths  macchia  —  a  word  of  special  significance  on  the 
island.  It  is  equivalent  to  "jungle  "  or  "  chaparral  "  ;  but 
the  Corsican  macchia  has  a  character  and  a  use  of  its  own. 
Fancy  an  interminable  thicket  of  myrtle,  arbutus,  wild 
laurel,  lentisk,  box,  and  heather,  eight  or  twelve  feet  in 
height,  interlaced  with  powerful  and  luxuriant  vines,  and 
with  an  undergrowth  of  rosemary,  lavender,  and  sage. 
Between  the  rigid,  stubby  stems  the  wild  boar  can  scarcely 


THE   LAND    OF    PAOLI.  309 

make  his  way ;  thorns  and  dagger-like  branches  meet 
above  —  yet  the  richest  balm  breathes  from  this  impene 
trable  wilderness.  When  the  people  say  of  a  man,  "  he 
has  taken  to  the  macchia,"  every  one  understands  that  he 
has  committed  a  murder.  Formerly,  those  who  indulged 
in  the  fierce  luxury  of  the  vendetta  sometimes  made  their 
home  for  years  in  the  thickets,  communicating  privately, 
from  time  to  time,  with  their  families.  But  there  is  now 
no  scent  of  blood  lurking  under  that  of  the  myrtle  and 
lavender.  Napoleon,  who  neglected  Corsica  during  his 
years  of  empire  (in  fact,  he  seemed  to  dislike  all  mention 
of  the  island),  remembered  the  odors  of  the  macchia  upon 
St.  Helena. 

Our  second  station  was  at  a  saw-mill  beside  the  river. 
Here  the  prefect  left  us,  saying :  "  I  am  going  to  La  Porta, 
in  the  country  of  Morosaglia.  It  is  a  beautiful  place, 
and  you  must  come  and  see  it.  I  have  a  ride  of  three 
hours,  on  horseback  across  the  mountains,  to  get  there." 

His  place  in  the  coupe  was  taken  by  a  young  physician 
bound  for  Pontenuovo,  further  up  the  valley.  I  was  struck 
by  the  singular  loneliness  of  the  country,  as  we  advanced 
further  into  the  interior.  Neither  in  the  grain-fields  be 
low,  nor  the  olive-orchards  above,  was  any  laborer  to  be 
seen.  Mile  after  mile  passed  by,  and  the  diligence  was 
alone  on  the  highway.  "  The  valley  of  the  Golo  is  so  un 
healthy,"  said  the  physician,  "  that  the  people  only  come 
down  to  their  fields  at  the  time  for  ploughing,  sowing,  and 
reaping.  If  a  man  from  the  mountains  spends  a  single 
night  below  here,  he  is  likely  to  have  an  attack  of  fever." 

"  But  the  Golo  is  a  rapid  mountain  stream,"  I  remarked  ; 
"  there  are  no  marshes  in  the  valley,  and  the  air  seems  to 
me  pure  and  bracing.  Would  not  the  country  become 
healthy  through  more  thorough  cultivation?" 

"  I  can  only  explain  it,"  he  answered,  "  by  the  constant 
variation  of  temperature.  During  the  day  there  is  a  close 
heat,  such  as  we  feel  now,  while  at  night  the  air  becomes 


400  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 


suddenly  chill  and  damp.  As  to  agriculture,  it  don't  seem 
to  be  the  natural  business  of  the  Corsican.  He  will  range 
the  mountains  all  day,  with  a  gun  on  his  shoulder,  but  he 
hates  work  in  the  fields.  Most  of  the  harvesting  on  the 
eastern  coast  of  the  island,  and  in  the  Balagna,  is  done  by 
the  Lucchese  peasants,  who  come  over  from  the  main 
land  every  year.  Were  it  not  for  them,  the  grain  would 
rot  where  it  stands." 

This  man's  statement  may  have  been  exaggerated,  but 
further  observation  convinced  me  that  there  was  truth  in 
it.  Yet  the  people  are  naturally  active  and  of  a  lively 
temperament,  and  their  repugnance  to  labor  is  only  one 
of  the  many  consequences  of  the  vendetta.  When  Paoli 
suppressed  the  custom  with  an  iron  hand,  industry  revived 
in  Corsica ;  and  now  that  the  French  government  has  suc 
ceeded  in  doing  the  same  thing,  the  waste  and  pestilent 
lands  will  no  doubt  be  gradually  reclaimed. 

The  annals  of  the  Corsican  vendetta  are  truly  something 
terrible.  Filippini  (armed  to  the  teeth  and  protected  by  a 
stone  wall,  as  he  wrote)  and  other  native  historians  esti 
mate  the  number  of  murders  from  revenge  in  the  three 
and  a  half  centuries  preceding  the  year  1729  at  three 
hundred  and  thirty-three  thousand,  and  the  number  of 
persons  wounded  in  family  feuds  at  an  equal  figure ! 
Three  times  the  population  of  the  island  killed  or  wounded 
in  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  !  Gregorovius  says  :  "  If 
this  island  of  Corsica  could  vomit  back  all  the  blood  of 
battle  and  vendetta  which  it  has  drunk  during  the  past 
ages,  its  cities  and  towns  would  be  overwhelmed,  its  popula 
tion  drowned,  and  the  sea  be  incarnadined  as  far  as  Genoa 
Verily,  here  the  red  Death  planted  his  kingdom."  France 
has  at  last,  by  two  simple,  practical  measures,  stayed  the 
deluge.  First,  the  population  was  disarmed ;  then  the 
bandits  and  blood-outlaws  were  formed  into  a  body  of 
Voltigeurs  Corses,  who,  knowing  all  the  hiding-places  ir 
the  macchia,  easily  track  the  fugitives.  A  few  executions 


THE   LAND   OF   PAOLI.  401 

tamed  the  thirst  for  blood,  and  within  the  past  ten  years 
the  vendetta  has  ceased  to  exist. 

While  we  were  discussing  these  matters  with  the  physi 
cian,  the  diligence  rolled  steadily  onwards,  up  the  valley  of 
the  Golo.  With  every  mile  the  scenery  became  wilder, 
browner,  and  more  lonely.  There  were  no  longer  villages 
on  the  hill-summits,  and  the  few  farm-houses  perched  be 
side  the  chestnut-orchards  appeared  to  be  untenanted.  As 
the  road  crossed  by  a  lofty  stone  arch  to  the  southern  bank 
of  the  river,  the  physician  said :  "  This  is  Pontenuovo,  and  it 
is  just  a  hundred  years  to-day  since  the  battle  was  fought." 
He  was  mistaken  ;  the  battle  of  Pontenuovo,  fatal  to  Paoli 
and  to  the  independence  of  Corsica,  took  place  on  the  9th 
of  May,  1769.  It  was  the  end  of  a  struggle  all  the  more 
heroic  because  it  was  hopeless  from  the  start.  The  stony 
slopes  on  either  side  of  the  bridge  are  holy  ground  ;  for 
the  Corsicans  did  not  fight  in  vain.  A  stronger  people 
beyond  the  sea  took  up  the  torch  as  it  fell  from  their 
hands,  and  fed  it  with  fresh  oil.  History  (as  it  has  hith 
erto  been  written)  deals  only  with  events,  not  with  popular 
sympathies  and  enthusiasms  ;  and  we  can  therefore  scarcely 
guess  how  profoundly  the  heart  of  the  world  was  stirred  by 
the  name  of  Corsica,  between  the  years  1755  and  1769. 
To  Catharine  of  Russia  as  to  Rousseau,  to  Al fieri  as  to  Dr. 
Johnson,  Paoli  was  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  century. 

Beyond  Pontenuovo  the  valley  widens,  and  a  level  road 
carried  us  speedily  to  Ponte  alia  Leccia,  at  the  junction  of 
the  Golo  with  its  principal  affluent,  the  Tartaglia.  Ponte- 
lech  and  Tartatch  are  the  Corsican  words.  Here  the  scen 
ery  assumes  a  grand  Alpine  character.  High  over  the 
nearer  mountains  rose  the  broken  summits  of  Monte 
Padro  and  Capo  Bianco,  the  snow-filled  ravines  glittering 
between  their  dark  pinnacles  of  rock.  On  the  south,  a  by 
road  wandered  away  through  the  chestnut-woods  to  Moro- 
saglia ;  villages  with  picturesque  belfries  overlooked  the 
valley,  and  the  savage  macchia  gave  place  to  orchards 

26 


402  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 


of  olive.  Yet  the  character  of  the  scenery  was  sombre, 
almost  melancholy.  Though  the  myrtle  flowered  snowily 
among  the  rocks,  and  the  woodbine  hung  from  the  banks, 
and  the  river  filled  the  air  with  the  incessant  mellow 
sound  of  its  motion,  these  cheerful  features  lost  their 
wonted  effect  beside  the  sternness  and  solitude  of  the 
mountains. 

Towards  the  end  of  this  stage  the  road  left  the  Golo,  and 
ascended  a  narrow  lateral  valley  to  the  village  of  Omessa, 
where  we  changed  horses.  Still  following  the  stream  to 
its  sources,  we  reached  a  spur  from  the  central  chain,  and 
slowly  climbed  its  sides  to  a  higher  region  —  a  land  of 
rocks  and  green  pasture-slopes,  from  the  level  of  which  a 
wide  sweep  of  mountains  was  visible.  The  summit  of 
the  pass  was  at  least  two  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  On 
attaining  it,  a  new  and  surprising  vista  opened  to  the  south 
ward,  into  the  very  heart  of  the  island.  The  valley  before 
us  dropped  in  many  windings  into  that  of  the  Tavignano, 
the  second  river  of  Corsica,  which  we  overlooked  for  an 
extent  of  thirty  miles.  Eastward  the  mountains  sank  into 
hills  of  gentle  undulation,  robed  with  orchards  and  vine 
yards,  and  crowned  with  villages ;  westward  they  towered 
into  dark,  forbidding  ranges,  and  the  snows  of  the  great 
central  peaks  of  Monte  Rotondo  and  Monte  d'  Oro,  nearly 
ten  thousand  feet  in  height,  stood  gray  against  the  sunset. 
Generally,  the  landscapes  of  an  island  have  a  diminished, 
contracted  character ;  but  here  the  vales  were  as  amply 
spread,  the  mountains  as  grandly  planted,  as  if  a  continent 
lay  behind  them. 

For  two  leagues  the  road  descended,  following  the  bays 
itnd  forelands  of  the  hills.  The  diligence  sped  downward 
so  rapidly  that  before  it  was  quite  dusk  we  saw  the  houses 
and  high  rock  fortress  of  Corte  before  us.  A  broad  ave 
nue  of  sycamores,  up  and  down  which  groups  of  people 
were  strolling,  led  into  the  town.  "We  were  set  down  at  a 
hotel  of  primitive  fashion,  where  we  took  quarters  for  the 


THE   LAND   OF   PAOLI.  40:) 

night,  leaving  the  diligence,  which  would  have  carried  us 
to  Ajaccio  by  the  next  morning.  Several  French  officials 
had  possession  of  the  best  rooms,  so  that  we  were  but  indif 
ferently  lodged  ;  but  the  mountain  trout  on  the  dinner- 
table  were  excellent,  and  the  wine  of  Corte  was  equal  to 
that  of  Tuscany. 

While  the  moon,  risen  over  the  eastern  mountains, 
steeps  the  valley  in  misty  silver,  and  a  breeze  from  the  Al 
pine  heights  deliciously  tempers  the  air,  let  us  briefly  recall 
that  wonderful  episode  of  Corsican  history  of  which  Pascal 
Paoli  is  the  principal  figure.  My  interest  in  the  name 
dates  from  the  earliest  recollections  of  childhood.  Near 
my  birthplace  there  is  an  inn  and  cluster  of  houses  named 
Paoli  —  or,  as  the  people  pronounce  it,  Peoli.  Here 
twenty-three  American  soldiers  were  murdered  in  cold 
blood  by  the  British  troops,  in  September,  1777.  "Wayne's 
battle-cry  at  the  storming  of  Stony  Point  was,  "  Remember 
Paoli !  "  The  old  tavern-sign  was  the  half-length  portrait 
of  an  officer  (in  a  red  coat,  I  think),  whom,  I  was  told,  was 
"  General  Paoli,"  but  I  knew  nothing  further  of  him, 
until,  some  years  later,  I  stumbled  on  Boswell's  work  ;  my 
principal  authority,  however,  is  a  recent  volume,1  and  the 
collection  of  Paoli's  letters  published  by  Tommaseo. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  review  the  long  struggle  of  the  Cor- 
sicans  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  Genoa  ;  I  need  only  allude 
to  the  fact.  Pascal,  born  in  1724  or  1725,  was  the  son  of 
Hyacinth  Paoli,  who  was  chosen  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the 
people  in  1734,  and  in  connection  with  the  other  chiefs, 
Ceccaldi  and  Giaffori,  carried  on  the  war  for  independence 
with  the  greatest  bravery  and  resolution,  but  with  little 
success,  for  two  years.  In  March,  1 730,  when  the  Corsi- 
cans  were  reduced  to  the  last  extremity,  the  WestphaHan 
adventurer,  Theodore  von  Neuhoff,  suddenly  made  his  ap 
pearance.  The  story  of  this  man,  who  came  ashore  in  a 
caftan  of  scarlet  silk,  Turkish  trousers,  yellow  shoes,  a 
1  Histoire  de  Pascal  Paoli,  par  M.  Bartoli.  Largentiere,  I860. 


401  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

Spanish  hat  and  feather,  and  a  sceptre  in  his  right  hand, 
and  coolly  announced  to  the  people  that  he  had  come  to  be 
their  king,  is  so  fantastic  as  to  be  scarcely  credible  ;  but 
we  cannot  dwell  upon  it  His  supplies  of  money  and  mu 
nitions  of  war,  and  still  more  his  magnificent  promises, 
beguiled  those  sturdy  republicans  into  accepting  the  cheat 
of  a  crown.  The  fellow  was  not  without  ability,  and  but 
for  a  silly  vanity,  which  led  him  to  ape  the  state  and  show 
of  other  European  courts,  might  have  kept  his  place.  His 
reign  of  eight  months  was  the  cause  of  Genoa  calling  in 
the  aid  of  France ;  and,  after  three  years  of  varying  for 
tunes,  the  Corsicans  were  obliged  to  submit  to  the  condi 
tions  imposed  upon  them  by  the  French  commander, 
Maillebois. 

Hyacinth  Paoli  went  into  exile,  and  found  a  refuge  at 
the  court  of  Naples  with  his  son  Pascal.  The  latter  was 
carefully  educated  in  the  school  of  Genovesi,  the  first 
Italian  political-economist  of  the  last  century,  and  then 
entered  the  army,  where  he  distinguished  himself  during 
campaigns  in  Sicily  and  Calabria.  Thus  sixteen  years 
passed  away. 

The  Corsicans,  meanwhile,  had  continued  their  struggle 
under  the  leadership  of  Giaffori,  another  of  the  many  he 
roes  of  the  island.  When,  in  1753,  he  was  assassinated, 
the  whole  population  met  together  to  celebrate  his  obse 
quies,  and  renewed  the  oath  of  resistance  to  death  against 
the  Genoese  rule.  Five  chiefs  (one  of  whom  was  Clement 
Paoli,  Pascal's  elder  brother)  were  chosen  to  organize  a 
provisional  government  and  carry  on  the  war.  But  at  the 
end  of  two  years  it  was  found  prudent  to  adopt  a  more 
practical  system,  and  to  give  the  direction  of  affairs  into 
the  hands  of  a  single  competent  man.  It  was  no  doubt 
Clement  Paoli  who  first  suggested  his  brother's  name. 
The  military  experience  of  the  latter  gave  him  the  confi 
dence  of  the  people,  and  their  unanimous  voice  called  him 
to  be  their  leader. 


THE   LAND    OF   PAOLI.  405 

In  April,  1755,  Pascal  Paoli,  then  thirty  years  old, 
landed  at  Aleria,  the  very  spot  where  King  Theodore  had 
made  his  theatrical  entry  into  Corsica  nineteen  years  be 
fore.  Unlike  him,  Paoli  came  alone,  poor,  bringing  only 
his  noble  presence,  his  cultivated  intelligence,  and  his  fame 
as  a  soldier,  to  the  help  of  his  countrymen.  "  It  was  a 
singular  problem,"  says  one  of  the  historians  of  Corsica  ; 
"  it  was  a  new  experiment  in  history,  and  how  it  might 
succeed  at  a  time  when  similar  experiments  failed  in  the 
most  civilized  lands  would  be  to  Europe  an  evidence  that 
the  rude  simplicity  of  nature  is  more  capable  of  adapting 
itself  to  democratic  liberty  than  the  refined  corruption  of 
culture  can  possibly  be." 

Paoli,  at  first  reluctant  to  accept  so  important  a  post, 
finally  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  the  people,  and  on  the 
loth  of  July  was  solemnly  invested  with  the  Presidency  of 
Corsica.  His  first  step  shows  at  once  his  judgment  and 
his  boldness.  He  declared  that  the  vendetta  must  instantly 
cease ;  whoever  committed  blood-revenge  was  to  be 
branded  with  infamy,  and  given  up  to  the  headsman.  He 
traversed  the  island,  persuading  hostile  families  to  bury 
their  feuds,  and  relentlessly  enforced  the  new  law,  although 
one  of  his  relatives  was  the  first  victim.  But  he  was  not 
allowed  to  enter  upon  his  government  without  resistance. 
Matra,  one  of  the  Corsican  chiefs,  was  ambitious  of  Paoli's 
place,  and  for  a  year  the  island  was  disturbed  with  civil 
war.  Matra  claimed  and  received  assistance  from  Genoa, 
and  Paoli,  defeated  and  besieged  in  the  monastery  of 
Bozio,  was  almost  in  the  hands  of  his  rival,  when  rein 
forcements  appeared,  headed  by  Clement  and  by  Carnoni, 
a  blood-enemy  of  the  Paolis,  forced  by  his  noble  mother 
to  forswear  the  family  enmity,  and  deliver  instead  of  slay. 
Matra  was  killed,  and  thenceforth  Paoli  was  the  undisputed 
chief  of  Corsica. 

It  was  not  difficult  for  the  people,  once  united,  to  with 
stand  the  weakened  power  of  Genoa.  That  republic  pos- 


406  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

sessed  only  Bastia,  Ajaccio,  and  Calvi ;  the  garrisoning  of 
which  fortresses,  by  a  treaty  with  France  in  1756,  was 
transferred  to  the  latter  power,  in  order  to  prevent  them 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Corsicans.  The  French 
proclaimed  a  neutrality  which  Paoli  perforce  was  obliged 
to  respect.  He  therefore  directed  his  attention  to  the  thor 
ough  political  organization  of  the  island,  the  development 
of  its  resources,  and  the  proper  education  of  its  people. 
He  had  found  the  country  in  a  lamentable  condition  when 
he  returned  from  his  exile.  The  greater  part  of  the  people 
had  relapsed  into  semi-barbarism  in  the  long  course  of 
war ;  agriculture  was  neglected,  laws  had  fallen  into  dis 
use,  the  vendetta  raged  everywhere,  and  the  only  element 
from  which  order  and  industry  could  be  evolved  was  the 
passionate  thirst  for  independence,  which  had  only  been 
increased  by  defeat  and  suffering. 

Paoli  made  the  completest  use  of  this  element,  bending 
it  all  to  the  purposes  of  government,  and  his  success  was 
truly  astonishing.  The  new  seaport  of  Isola  Rossa  was 
built  in  order  to  meet  the  necessity  of  immediate  com 
merce  ;  manufactories  of  all  kinds,  even  powder-mills  were 
established  ;  orchards  of  chestnut,  olive,  and  orange  trees 
were  planted,  the  culture  of  maize  introduced,  and  plans 
made  for  draining  the  marshes  and  covering  the  island 
with  a  network  of  substantial  highways.  An  educational 
system  far  in  advance  of  the  times  was  adopted.  All  chil 
dren  received  at  least  the  rudiments  of  education,  and  in 
the  year  1765  the  University  of  Corsica  was  founded  at 
Corte.  One  provision  of  its  charter  was  the  education  of 
poor  scholars,  who  showed  more  than  average  capacity,  at 
the  public  expense. 

Paoli  was  obliged  to  base  his  scheme  of  government  on 
the  existing  forms.  He  retained  the  old  provincial  and 
municipal  divisions,  with  their  magistrates  and  elders,  mak 
ing  only  such  changes  as  were  necessary  to  bind  the  scat 
tered  local  jurisdictions  into  one  consistent  whole,  to  which 


THE   LAND    OF   I'AOLI.  407 

he  gave  a  national  power  and  character.  He  declared  the 
people  to  be  the  sole  source  of  law  and  authority  ;  that  his 
office  was  a  trust  from  their  hands,  and  to  be  exercised  ac 
cording  to  their  will  and  for  their  general  good  ;  and  that 
the  central  government  must  be  a  house  of  glass,  allowing 
each  citizen  to  watch  over  its  action.  "  Secrecy  and  mys 
tery  in  governments,"  he  said,  "  not  only  make  a  people 
mistrustful,  but  favor  the  growth  of  an  absolute  irrespon 
sible  power." 

All  citizens  above  the  age  of  twenty-five  years  were  en 
titled  to  the  right  of  suffrage.  Each  community  elected 
its  own  magistrates,  but  the  voters  were  obliged  to  swear 
before  the  officials  already  in  power,  that  they  would  nom 
inate  only  the  worthiest  and  most  capable  men  as  their 
successors.  These  local  elections  were  held  annually,  but 
the  magistrates  were  not  eligible  to  immediate  reelection. 
A  representative  from  each  thousand  of  the  population 
was  elected  to  the  General  Assembly,  which  in  its  turn 
chose  a  Supreme  Executive  Council  of  nine  members  — 
one  from  each  province  of  the  island.  The  latter  were  re 
quired  to  be  thirty-five  years  of  age,  and  to  have  served  as 
governors  of  their  respective  provinces.  A  majority  of 
two  thirds  gave  the  decisions  of  the  General  Assembly  the 
force  of  law ;  but  the  Council,  in  certain  cases,  had  the 
right  of  veto,  and  the  question  was  then  referred  for  final 
decision  to  the  next  Assembly.  Paoli  was  President  of 
the  Council  and  General-iii-chief  of  the  army.  Both  he 
and  the  members  of  the  Council,  however,  were  responsible 
to  the  nation,  and  liable  to  impeachment,  removal,  and 
punishment  by  the  General  Assembly. 

Paoli,  while  enforcing  a  general  militia  system,  took  the 
strongest  ground  against  the  establishment  of  a  standing 
army.  "  In  a  free  land,"  he  said,  "  every  citizen  must  be  a 
soldier,  and  ready  to  arm  at  any  moment  in  defense  of  his 
rights.  But  standing  armies  have  always  served  Despot 
ism  rather  than  Liberty."  He  only  gave  way  that  a  lim- 


408  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

ited  number  should  be  enrolled  to  garrison  the  fortified 
places.  As  soon  as  the  people  were  sufficiently  organized 
to  resist  the  attempts  which  Genoa  made  from  time  to 
time  to  recover  her  lost  dominion,  he  devoted  his  energies 
wholly  to  the  material  development  of  the  island.  The 
Assembly,  at  his  suggestion,  appointed  two  commissioners 
of  agriculture  for  each  province.  The  vendetta  was  com 
pletely  suppressed ;  with  order  and  security  came  a  new 
prosperity,  and  the  cities  held  by  the  neutral  French  began 
to  stir  with  desires  to  come  under  Paoli's  paternal  rule. 

The  resemblance  in  certain  forms  as  in  the  general  spirit 
and  character  of  the  Constitution  of  the  Corsican  Repub 
lic  to  that  of  the  United  States,  which  was  framed  more 
than  thirty  years  afterwards,  is  very  evident.  Indeed,  we 
may  say  that  the  latter  is  simply  an  adaptation  of  the  same 
political  principles  to  the  circumstances  of  a  more  advanced 
race  and  a  broader  field  of  action.  But  if  we  justly  ven 
erate  the  courage  which  won  our  independence  and  the 
wisdom  which  gave  us  our  institutions,  how  shall  we  suffi 
ciently  honor  the  man  and  the  handful  of  half-barbarous 
people  who  so  splendidly  anticipated  the  same  great  work ! 
Is  there  anything  nobler  in  history  than  the  Corsican  epi 
sode  ?  No  wonder  that  the  sluggish  soul  of  Europe,  then 
beginning  to  stir  with  the  presentiment  of  coming  changes, 
was  kindled  and  thrilled  as  not  for  centuries  before.  What 
effect  the  example  of  Corsica  had  upon  the  American 
Colonies  is  something  which  we  cannot  now  measure.  I 
like  to  think,  however,  that  the  country  tavern-sign  of 
"  General  Paoli,"  put  up  before  the  Revolution,  signified 
more  than  the  mere  admiration  of  the  landlord  for  a  for 
eign  hero. 

At  the  end  of  ten  years  the  Genoese  Senate  became 
convinced  that  the  recovery  of  Corsica  was  hopeless  ;  and 
when  Paoli  succeeded  in  creating  a  small  fleet,  under  the 
command  of  Perez,  Knight  of  Malta,  they  saw  their  Med 
iterranean  commerce  threatened  with  destruction.  In  the 


THE   LAND    OF   PAOLI.  400 

year  1767  the  island  of  Capraja  was  captured  by  the  Cor- 
sicans;  then  Genoa  set  the  example  which  Austria  has 
recently  followed  in  the  case  of  Venetia.  A  treaty  was 
signed  at  Versailles  on  the  15th  of  May,  1768,  between  the 
French  Minister,  the  Duke  de  Choiseul,  and  the  Genoese 
Ambassador,  whereby  Genoa  transferred  to  France  all  her 
right  and  title  to  the  island  of  Corsica.  This  was  a  death 
blow  to  the  Republic  ;  but  the  people  armed  and  organized, 
determined  to  resist  to  the  end.  The  splendid  victory  at 
Borgo  gave  them  hope.  They  asked  and  expected  the 
assistance  of  England ;  but  when  did  England  ever  help  a 
weak  and  struggling  people  ?  The  battle  of  Pontenuovo, 
on  the  9th  of  May,  1769,  sealed  the  fate  of  the  island.  A 
month  afterwards  Paoli  went  into  exile  with  three  hundred 
of  his  countrymen.  Among  those  who  fled,  after  the  bat 
tle,  to  the  wild  Alpine  fastnesses  of  Monte  Rotondo,  was 
his  secretary,  Carlo  Bonaparte,  and  the  latter's  wife,  Letitia 
Ramolino,  then  seven  months  enceinte  with  the  boy  who 
afterwards  made  Genoa  and  France  suffer  the  blood-re 
venge  of  Corsica.  Living  in  caves  and  forests,  drenched 
with  rain,  and  almost  washed  away  by  the  mountain  tor 
rents,  Letitia  bore  her  burden  to  Ajaccio,  and  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  was  one  of  the  first  Corsicans  who  were  born 
Frenchmen. 

Paoli's  journey  through  Italy  and  Germany  to  England 
was  a  march  of  triumph.  On  reaching  London  he  was  re 
ceived  by  the  king  in  private  audience ;  all  parties  joined 
in  rendering  him  honor.  A  pension  of  two  thousand 
pounds  a  year  was  granted  to  him  (the  greater  part  of 
which  he  divided  among  his  fellow  exiles),  and  he  took  up 
his  residence  in  the  country  from  which  he  still  hoped  the 
liberation  of  Corsica.  For  twenty  years  we  hear  of  him 
as  a  member  of  that  society  which  included  Burke,  Rey 
nolds,  Johnson,  Garrick,  and  Goldsmith  ;  keeping  clear  of 
parties,  yet,  we  may  be  sure,  following  with  an  interest  he 
hardly  dared  betray  the  events  of  the  American  struggle. 


410  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 


But  the  French  revolution  did  not  forget  him.  The 
Corsicans,  in  November,  1789,  carried  away  by  the  repub 
lican  movement  in  France,  had  voted  that  their  island 
should  be  an  integral  part  of  the  French  nation.  There 
was  a  general  cry  for  Paoli,  and  in  April  1790,  he  reached 
Paris.  Lafayette  was  his  friend  and  guide ;  the  National 
Assembly  received  him  with  every  mark  of  respect ;  the 
club  of  the  Amis  de  la  Constitution  seated  him  beside  its 
President — Robespierre;  Louis  XVI.  gave  him  an  audi 
ence,  and  he  was  styled  by  the  enthusiastic  populace  "  the 
"Washington  of  Europe."  At  Marseilles  he  was  met  by  a 
Corsican  deputation,  two  of  the  members  of  which  were 
Joseph  and  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  who  sailed  with  him  to 
their  native  island.  On  landing  at  Cape  Corso,  he  knelt 
and  kissed  the  earth,  exclaiming,  "  O  my  country,  I  left 
thee  enslaved  and  I  find  thee  free  ! "  All  the  land  rose  to 
receive  him  ;  Te  Deums  were  chanted  in  the  churches,  and 
the  mountain  villages  were  depopulated  to  swell  his  tri 
umphal  march.  In  September  of  the  same  year  the  rep 
resentatives  of  the  people  elected  him  President  of  the 
Council  and  General  of  the  troops  of  the  island. 

Many  things  had  been  changed  during  his  twenty  years' 
absence,  under  the  rule  of  France.  It  was  not  long  before 
the  people  divided  themselves  into  two  parties — one  French 
and  ultra-republican  ;  the  other  Corsican,  working  secretly 
for  the  independence  of  the  island.  The  failure  of  the 
expedition  against  Sardinia  was  charged  to  Paoli,  and  he 
was  summoned  by  the  Convention  to  appear  and  answer 
the  charges  against  him.  Had  he  complied,  his  head  would 
probably  have  fallen  under  the  all-devouring  guillotine  ;  he 
refused,  and  his  refusal  brought  the  two  Corsican  parties 
into  open  collision.  Paoli  was  charged  with  being  ambi 
tious,  corrupt,  and  plotting  to  deliver  Corsica  to  England. 
His  most  zealous  defender  was  the  young  Napoleon  Bona 
parte,  who  wrote  a  fiery,  indignant  address,  which  I  should 
like  to  quote.  Among  other  things  he  says,  "  We  owe  alt 
to  him  —  even  the  fortune  of  being  a  republic  ! '' 


THE   LAXD    OF   PAOLI.  411 

The  story  now  becomes  one  of  intrigue  and  deception, 
and  its  heroic  atmosphere  gradually  vanishes.  Pozzo  di 
Borgo,  the  blood-enemy  of  Napoleon,  alienated  Paoli 
from  the  latter.  A  fresh,  cunning,  daring  intellect,  he  ac 
quired  a  mischievous  influence  over  the  gray-haired,  sim 
ple-hearted  patriot.  That  which  Paoli's  enemies  charged 
against  him  came  to  pass  ;  he  asked  the  help  of  England, 
and  in  1794  the  people  accepted  the  sovereignty  of  that 
nation,  on  condition  of  preserving  their  institutions,  and 
being  governed  by  a  viceroy,  who  it  was  presumed  would 
be  none  other  than  Pascal  Paoli.  The  English  fleet,  un 
der  Admiral  Hood,  speedily  took  possession  of  Bastia, 
Calvi,  Ajaccio,  and  the  other  seaports.  But  the  English 
government,  contemptuously  ignoring  Paoli's  services  and 
claims,  sent  out  Sir  Gilbert  Elliott  as  viceroy;  and  he, 
jealous  of  Paoli's  popularity,  demanded  the  hitter's  recall 
to  England.  George  III.  wrote  a  command  under  the  form 
of  an  invitation ;  and  in  1795,  Paoli,  disappointed  in  all 
his  hopes,  disgusted  with  the  treatment  he  had  received, 
and  recognizing  the  hopelessness  of  healing  the  new  dis 
sensions  among  the  people,  left  Corsica  for  the  last  time. 
He  returned  to  his  former  home  in  London,  where  he  died 
in  1807,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two  years.  What  little  prop 
erty  he  had  saved  was  left  to  found  a  school  at  Stretta,  his 
native  village  ;  and  another  at  Corte,  for  fifteen  years  his 
capital.  Within  a  year  after  his  departure  the  English 
were  driven  out  of  Corsica. 

Paoli  rejoiced,  as  a  Corsican,  at  Napoleon's  ascendency 
in  France.  He  illuminated  his  house  in  London  when  the 
latter  was  declared  Consul  for  life,  yet  he  was  never  re 
called.  During  his  last  days  on  St.  Helena,  Napoleon 
regretted  his  neglect  or  jealousy  of  the  old  hero  ;  his  lame 
apology  was,  "  I  was  so  governed  by  political  considera 
tions,  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  obey  my  personal 
impulses  1 " 

Our  first  object,  on    the    morning   after  our  arrival  in 


412  BY-WAYS    OF   EUEOPE. 

Corte,  was  to  visit  the  places  with  which  Paoli's  name  is 
associated.  The  main  street  conducted  us  to  the  public 
sqiure,  where  stands  his  bronze  statue,  with  the  inscrip 
tion  on  the  pedestal:  "A  PASCAL  PAOLI  LA  CORSE  RE- 
CONXAISSANTE."  On  one  side  of  the  square  is  the  Pa- 
lazza,  or  Hall  of  Government ;  and  there  they  show  you  his 
room,  the  window-shutters  of  which  still  keep  their  lining 
of  cork,  as  in  the  days  of  assassination,  when  he  founded 
the  Republic.  Adjoining  it  is  a  chamber  where  the  Exec 
utive  Council  met  to  deliberate.  Paoli's  school,  which  still 
flourishes,  is  his  best  monument. 

High  over  the  town  rises  the  battered  citadel,  seated  on  a 
rock  which  on  the  western  side  falls  several  hundred  feet 
sheer  down  to  the  Tavignano.  The  high  houses  of  brown 
stone  climb  and  cling  to  the  eastern  slope,  rough  masses 
of  browner  rock  thrust  out  among  them  ;  and  the  place 
thus  has  an  irregular  pyramidal  form,  which  is  wonderfully 
picturesque.  The  citadel  was  last  captured  from  the  Geno 
ese  by  Paoli's  forerunner,  Giaffori,  in  the  year  1745.  The 
Corsican  cannon  were  beginning  to  breach  the  walls,  when 
the  Genoese  commander  ordered  Giaffori's  son,  who  had 
previously  been  taken  prisoner,  to  be  suspended  from  the 
ramparts.  For  a  moment  —  but  only  for  a  moment  — 
Giaffori  shuddered,  and  turned  away  his  head ;  then  he 
commanded  the  gunners,  who  had  ceased  firing,  to  renew 
the  attack.  The  breach  was  effected,  and  the  citadel  taken 
by  storm  ;  the  boy,  unhurt  amidst  the  terrible  cannonade, 
was  restored  to  his  father. 

We  climbed  towards  the  top  of  the  rock  by  streets  which 
resembled  staircases.  At  last  the  path  came  to  an  end  in 
some  unsavory  back-yards,  if  piles  of  shattered  rock  behind 
the  houses  can  be  so  called.  I  asked  a  young  fellow  who 
was  standing  in  the  doorway,  watching  us,  whether  any 
view  was  to  be  had  by  going  further. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  there  is  a  better  prospect  from  the 
other  house  —  yonder,  where  you  see  the  old  woman." 


THE    LAND   OF   PAOLI.  4iJ 

We  clambered  across  the  intervening  rocks,  and  found 
the  woman  engaged  in  shearing  a  goat,  which  a  boy  held  l»y 
the  horns.  "  Certainly,"  she  said,  when  I  repeated  the 
question  ;  "  Come  into  the  house,  and  you  shall  look  from 
the  windows." 

She  led  us  through  the  kitchen  into  a  bright,  plainly  fur 
nished  room,  where  four  women  were  sewing.  They  all 
greeted  us  smilingly,  rose,  pushed  away  their  chairs,  and 
then  opened  the  southern  window.  "  Now  look  !  "  said  the 
old  woman. 

AVe  were  dazzled  by  the  brightness  and  beauty  of  the  pic 
ture.  The  house  was  perched  upon  the  outer  angle  of  the 
rock,  and  the  valley  of  the  Tavignano,  with  the  gorge  through 
which  its  affluent,  the  Restonica,  issues  from  the  mountains, 
lay  below  us.  Gardens,  clumps  of  walnut  and  groves  of 
chestnut  trees,  made  the  valley  green  ;  the  dark  hues  of  the 
mountains  were  softened  to  purple  in  the  morning  air, 
and  the  upper  snows  shone  with  a  brilliancy  which  I  have 
rarely  seen  among  the  Alps.  The  breeze  came  down  to 
us  with  freshness  on  its  wings,  and  the  subdued  voices  of 
the  twin  rivers. 

"  Now  the  other  window !  "  the  women  said. 

It  opened  eastward.  There  were,  first,  the  roofs  of 
Corte,  dropping  away  to  the  water-side ;  then  a  wide,  boun 
teous  valley,  green,  flecked  with  harvest  gold ;  then  village- 
crowned  hills,  and,  behind  all,  the  misty  outlines  of  moun 
tains  that  slope  to  the  eastern  shore.  It  is  a  fair  land, 
this  Corsica,  and  the  friendly  women  were  delighted  when 
I  told  them  so. 

The  people  looked  at  us  with  a  natural  curiosity  as  we 
descended  the  hill.  Old  women,  invariably  dressed  in 
black,  gossiped  or  spun  at  the  doors,  girls  carried  water  on 
their  heads  from  the  fountains  below,  children  tumbled 
about  on  the  warm  stones,  and  a  young  mother,  bes!de  her 
cradle,  sang  the  Corsican  lullaby :  — 


4H  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

"  Ninni  ninni,  ninna  nanna, 
Ninni  ninni,  ninni  nolu, 
Allegrezza  di  la  mamma, 
Addormentati,  o  figliolu!  " 

There  is  another  Corsican  cradle  song  which  has  a  sin 
gular  resemblance  to  Tennyson's,  yet  it  is  quite  unlikely 
that  he  ever  saw  it.  One  verse  runs  :  — 

"  A  little  pearl-laden  ship,  my  darling, 
Thou  earnest  silken  stores, 
And  with  the  silken  sails  all  set 
Com'st  from  the  Indian  shores, 
And  wrought  with  the  finest  workmanship 
Are  all  thy  golden  oars. 
Sleep,  my  little  one,  sleep  a  little  while, 
Ninni  nanna,  sleep !  " 

The  green  waters  of  the  Tavignano,  plunging  and  foam 
ing  down  their  rocky  bed,  freshened  the  warm  summer  air. 
Beyond  the  bridge  a  vein  of  the  river,  led  underground, 
gushes  forth  as  a  profuse  fountain  under  an  arch  of  mason 
ry  ;  and  here  a  number  of  people  were  collected  to  wash 
and  to  draw  water.  One  of  the  girls,  who  gave  us  to 
drink,  refused  to  accept  a  proffered  coin,  until  a  country 
man  who  was  looking  on  said,  "  You  should  take  it,  since 
the  lady  wishes  it."  A  few  paces  further  a  second  bridge 
crosses  the  Restonica,  which  has  its  source  in  some  small 
lakes  near  the  summit  of  Monte  Rotondo.  Its  volume  of 
water  appeared  to  me  to  be  quite  equal  to  that  of  the  Tavig 
nano. 

The  two  rivers  meet  in  a  rocky  glen  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below  the  town  ;  and  thither  we  wandered  in  the  after 
noon,  through  the  shade  of  superb  chestnut-trees.  From 
this,  as  from  every  other  point  in  the  neighborhood,  the 
views  are  charming.  There  is  no  threat  of  malaria  in  the 
pure  mountain  air  ;  the  trees  are  of  richest  foliage,  the 
water  is  transparent  beryl,  and  the  pleasant,  communica 
tive  people  one  meets  impress  one  with  a  sense  of  their 
honest  simplicity.  We  wandered  around  Corte,  surrender- 


THE   LAND    OF   PAOLT.  415 

ing  ourselves  to  the  influences  of  the  scenery  and  its  asso 
ciations,  and  entirely  satisfied  with  both. 

Towards  evening  we  climbed  the  hill  by  an  easier  path, 
which  brought  us  upon  the  crest  of  a  ridge  connecting 
the  citadel-rock  with  the  nearest  mountains.  Directly 
before  us  opened  the  gorge  of  the  Tavignano,  with  a  bridle 
path  notched  along  its  almost  precipitous  sides.  A  man 
who  had  been  sitting  idly  on  a  rock,  with  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth,  came  up,  and  stood  beside  me.  "  Yonder,"  said  he, 
pointing  to  the  bridle-path,  —  "yonder  is  the  road  to  the 
land  of  Niolo.  If  you  follow  that,  you  will  come  to  a  forest 
that  is  four  hours  long.  The  old  General  Arrighi  —  the 
Duke  of  Padua,  you  know  —  travelled  it  some  years  ago, 
and  I  was  his  guide.  I  see  you  are  strangers  ;  you  ought 
to  see  the  land  of  Niolo.  It  is  not  so  rich  as  Corte  here ; 
but  then  the  forests  and  the  lakes,  —  ah,  they  are  fine ! " 

Presently  the  man's  wife  joined  us,  and  we  sat  down  to 
gether,  and  gossiped  for  half  an  hour.  They  gave  us  the 
recipe  for  making  broccio,  a  kind  of  Corsican  curd,  or 
junket,  which  we  had  tasted  at  the  hotel,  and  found  deli 
cious.  I  also  learned  from  them  many  details  of  the  coun 
try  life  of  the  island.  They,  like  all  the  Corsicans  with 
whom  I  came  in  contact,  were  quite  as  ready  to  answer 
questions  as  to  ask  them.  They  are  not  so  lively  as  the 
Italians,  but  more  earnestly  communicative,  quick  of  ap 
prehension,  and  gifted  with  a  rude  humor  of  their  own. 
In  Bastia  I  bought  a  volume  of  Pruverbj  Corse,  which  con 
tains  more  than  three  thousand  proverbs  peculiar  to  the 
island,  many  of  them  exceedingly  witty  and  clever.  I 
quote  a  single  one  as  a  specimen  of  the  dialect :  — 

"  Da  gattivu  calzu  un  ne  piglia  magliolu, 
Male  u  babbu  e  pegghiu  u  figliolu." 

During  our  talk  I  asked  the  pair,  "  Do  you  still  have 
the  vendetta  in  this  neigborhood  ?  " 

They  both  professed  not  to  know  what  I  meant  by  "  ven- 


416  BY-WAYS    OF   EUKOPE. 

detta,"'  but  I  saw  plain!}7  enough  that  they  understood  the 
question.  Finally  the  man  said,  rather  impatiently,  "  There 
are  a  great  many  kinds  of  vendetta." 

"I  mean  blood-revenge  —  assassination  —  murder." 

His  hesitation  to  speak  about  the  matter  disappeared  as 
mysteriously  as  it  came.  (Was  there,  perhaps,  a  stain  upon 
his  own  hand  ?)  "  O,"  he  answered,  "  that  is  all  at  an  end. 
I  can  remember  when  five  persons  were  killed  in  a  day  in 
Corte,  and  when  a  man  could  not  travel  from  here  to  Ajac- 
cio  without  risking  his  life.  But  now  we  have  neither  mur 
ders  nor  robberies  ;  all  the  roads  are  safe,  the  people  live 
quietly,  and  the  country  everywhere  is  better  than  it  was." 

I  noticed  that  the  Corsicans  are  proud  of  the  present 
Emperor  on  account  of  his  parentage ;  but  they  have  also 
some  reason  to  be  grateful  to  his  government.  He  has 
done  much  to  repair  the  neglect  of  his  uncle.  The  work 
of  Paoli  has  been  performed  over  again ;  law  and  order 
prevail  from  the  sea-shore  to  the  highest  herdsman's  hut 
on  Monte  Ilotondo ;  admirable  roads  traverse  the  island, 
schools  have  been  established  in  all  the  villages,  and  the 
national  spirit  of  the  people  is  satisfied  by  having  a  semi- 
Corsican  on  the  throne  of  France.  I  saw  no  evidence  of 
discontent  anywhere,  nor  need  there  be  ;  for  Europe  has 
nearly  reached  the  Corsican  ideal  of  the  last  century,  and 
the  pride  of  the  people  may  well  repose  for  a  while  upon 
the  annals  of  their  heroic  past. 

It  was  a  serious  disappointment  that  we  were  unable  to 
visit  Ajaccio  and  the  Balagna.  We  could  only  fix  the  in 
spiring  scenery  of  Corte  in  our  memories,  and  so  make  its 
historical  associations  vital  and  enduring.  There  was  no 
other  direct  way  of  returning  to  Bastia  than  the  road  by 
which  we  came  ;  but  it  kept  a  fresh  interest  for  us.  The 
conductor  of  the  diligence  was  one  of  the  liveliest  fellows 
living,  and  entertained  us  with  innumerable  stories ;  and 
at  the  station  of  Omessa  we  met  with  a  character  so  orig 
inal  that  I  wish  T  could  record  every  word  he  said. 


THE   LAND    OF   PAOLI.  417 

The  man  looked  more  like  a  Yankee  than  any  Italian  I 
had  seen  for  six  months.  He  presented  the  conductor  with 
what  appeared  to  be  a  bank-note  for  one  thousand  francs ; 
but  it  proved  to  be  issued  by  the  "  Bank  of  Content,"  and 
entitled  the  holder  to  live  a  thousand  years.  Happiness 
was  the  president,  and  Temperance  the  cashier. 

"  I  am  a  director  of  the  bank,"  said  the  disseminator  of 
the  notes,  addressing  the  passengers  and  a  group  of  coun 
trymen,  "  and  I  can  put  you  all  in  the  way  of  being  stock 
holders.  Lilt  you  must  first  bring  testimonials.  Four  are 
required  —  one  religious,  one  medical,  one  legal,  and  one 
domestic.  What  must  they  be  ?  Listen,  and  I  will  tell. 
Religious  —  from  a  priest,  vouching  for  four  things :  that 
you  have  never  been  baptized,  never  preached,  don't  be 
lieve  in  the  Pope,  and  are  not  afraid  of  the  Devil.  Medi 
cal  —  from  a  doctor,  that  you  have  had  the  measles,  that 
your  teeth  are  sound,  that  you  are  not  flatulent,  and  that 
he  has  never  given  you  medicine.  Legal  —  from  a  law 
yer,  that  you  have  never  been  accused  of  theft,  that  you 
mind  your  own  business,  and  that  you  have  never  em 
ployed  him.  Domestic  —  from  your  wife,  that  you  don't 
lift  the  lids  of  the  kitchen  pots,  walk  in  your  sleep,  or  lose 
the  keyhole  of  your  door!  There!  can  any  one  of  you 
bring  me  these  certificates  ?" 

The  auditors,  who  had  roared  with  laughter  during  the 
speech,  became  suddenly  grave  —  which  emboldened  the 
man  to  ply  them  with  other  and  sharper  questions.  Our 
departure  cut  short  the  scene  ;  but  I  heard  the  conductor 
laughing  on  his  box  for  a  league  further. 

At  Ponte  alia  Leccia  we  breakfasted  on  trout,  and, 
speeding  down  the  grand  and  lonely  valley  of  the  Golo, 
reached  Bastia  towards  evening.  As  we  steamed  out  of 
the  little  harbor  the  next  day,  we  took  the  words  of  our 
friend  Gregorovius,  and  made  them  ours  :  — 
27 


418  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

"  Year  after  year,  thy  slopes  of  olives  hoar 
Give  oil,  thy  vineyards  still  their  bounty  pour! 
Thy  maize  on  golden  meadows  ripen  well, 
And  let  the  sun  thy  curse  of  blood  dispel, 
Till  down  each  vale  and  on  each  mountain-side 
The  stains  of  thy  heroic  blood  be  dried ! 
Thy  sons  be  like  their  fathers,  strong  and  sure, 
Thy  daughters  as  thy  mountain  rivers  pure, 
And  still  thy  granite  crags  between  them  stand 
And  all  corruptions  of  the  older  land. 
Fair  isle,  farewell !   thy  virtues  shall  not  sleep.; 
Thy  fathers'  valor  shall  their  children  keep, 
That  ne'er  this  taunt  to  thee  the  stranger  cast,  — 
Thy  heroes  were  but  fables  of  the  Past!  " 


THE  ISLAND  OF  MADDALENA. 

WITH  A  DISTANT   VIEW  OF  CAPREEA. 


BEFORE  leaving  Florence  for  the  trip  to  Corsica,  in  which 
I  intended  to  include,  if  possible,  the  island  of  Sardinia,  I 
noticed  that  the  Rubattino  steamers  touched  at  Maddalena, 
on  their  way  from  Bastia  to  Porto  Torres.  The  island  of 
Maddalena,  I  knew,  lay  directly  over  against  Caprera,  sep 
arated  by  a  strait  not  more  than  two  or  three  miles  in 
breadth,  and  thus  a  convenient  opportunity  was  offered  of 
visiting  the  owner  and  resident  of  the  latter  island,  the 
illustrious  General  Giuseppe  Garibaldi.  I  have  no  special 
passion  for  making  the  personal  acquaintance  of  distin 
guished  men,  unless  it  happens  that  there  is  some  point  of 
mutual  interest  concerning  which  intelligence  may  be  given 
or  received.  In  this  case,  I  imagined  there  was  such  a 
point  of  contact.  Having  followed  the  fortunes  of  Italy 
for  the  past  twenty  years,  with  the  keen  sympathy  which 
springs  from  a  love  for  the  land,  and  having  been  so  near 
the  events  of  the  last  unfortunate  expedition  against  Rome 
as  to  feel  from  day  to  day  the  reflection  of  those  events  in 
the  temper  of  the  Italian  people,  I  had  learned,  during  a 
subsequent  residence  in  Rome,  certain  facts  which  added 
to  the  interest  of  the  question,  while  they  seemed  still  more 
to  complicate  its  solution.  There  were  some  things,  I  felt, 
an  explanation  of  which  (so  far  as  he  would  be  able  to 
give  it)  might  be  asked  of  Garibaldi  without  impropriety, 
and  which  he  could  communicate  without  any  necessity  of 
reserve. 

Another  and  natural  sentiment  was  mingled  with  my 
desire  to  meet  the  hero  of  Italian  unity.  I  knew  how 
shamefully  he  had  been  deceived  in  certain  respects,  be 
fore  undertaking  the  expedition  which  terminated  so  fruit- 


422  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

lessly  at  Mentana,  and  could,  therefore,  guess  the  mortifi 
cation  which  accompanied  him  in  his  imprisonment  (for 
such  it  virtually  is)  at  Caprera.  While,  therefore,  I  should 
not  have  sought  an  interview  after  the  glorious  Sicilian  and 
Calabrian  campaign,  or  when  the  still  excited  world  was 
reading  Nelaton's  bulletins  from  Spezzia,  —  so  confounding 
myself  with  the  multitude  who  always  admire  the  hero  of 
the  day,  and  risk  their  necks  to  shake  hands  with  him,  —  I 
felt  a  strong  desire  to  testify  such  respect  as  the  visit  of  a 
stranger  implies,  in  Garibaldi's  day  of  defeat  and  neglect. 

"  I  did  not  praise  thee,  when  the  crowd, 

Witched  with  the  moment's  inspiration, 
Vexed  thy  still  ether  with  hosannas  loud, 
And  stamped  their  dusty  adoration."  1 

Of  all  the  people  who  crowded  to  see  him  at  Spezzia  in 
such  throngs  that  a  false  Garibaldi,  with  bandaged  foot, 
was  arranged  to  receive  the  most  of  them,  there  is  no  trace 
now.  The  same  Americans  who  come  from  Paris  chant 
ing  paeans  to  Napoleon  III.,  go  to  Rome  and  are  instantly 
stricken  with  sympathy  for  Pius  IX.,  and  a  certain  respect 
for  the  Papacy,  temporal  power  included.  They  give  Ca 
prera  a  wide  berth.  Two  or  three  steadfast  English 
friends  do  what  they  can  to  make  the  hero's  solitude  pleas 
ant,  and  he  has  still,  as  always,  the  small  troop  of  Italian 
followers,  who  never  forsake  him,  because  they  live  from 
his  substance. 

Before  deciding  to  visit  Caprera,  I  asked  the  candid  ad 
vice  of  some  of  the  General's  most  intimate  friends  in 
Florence.  They  assured  me  that  s«arcely  any  one  had 
gone  to  see  him  for  months  past ;  that  a  visit  from  an 
American,  who  sympathized  with  the  great  and  generous 
aims  to  which  he  has  devoted  his  life,  could  not  be  other 
wise  than  welcome  ;  and,  while  offering  me  cordial  letters 
of  introduction,  declared  that  this  formality  was  really  un 
necessary.  It  was  pleasant  to  hear  him  spoken  of  as  a 
1  Lowell,  Ode  to  Lamarline. 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALENA.  423 

man  whose  refined  amiability  of  manner  was  equd  to  his 
unselfish  patriotism,  and  who  was  as  simple,  unpretending, 
and  accessible  personally,  as  he  was  rigorously  democratic 
in  his  political  utterances. 

I  purposely  shortened  my  tour  in  Corsica,  in  order  to 
take  the  Italian  steamer  which  touches  at  Bastia,  on  its 
way  to  Maddalena.  Half  smothered  in  the  sultry  heat,  we 
watched  the  distant  smoke  rounding  the  rocks  of  Capraja, 
and  the  steamer  had  no  sooner  anchored  outside  the  mole, 
than  we  made  haste  to  embark.  The  cloth  was  already 
spread  over  the  skylight  on  the  quarterdeck,  and  seven 
plates  denoted  six  fellow-passengers.  Two  of  these  were 
ladies,  two  Italians,  with  an  old  gentleman,  who  proved  to 
English,  although  he  looked  the  least  like  it,  and  an  unmis 
takable  Garibaldian,  in  a  red  shirt.  The  latter  was  my 
vis-a-vis  at  table,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  startled  the 
company  by  exclaiming :  "  In  fifty  years  we  shall  have  the 
Universal  Republic ! " 

After  looking  around  the  table,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  me, 
as  if  challenging  assent. 

"  In  five  hundred  years,  perhaps,"  I  said. 

u  But  the  priests  will  go  down  soon  !  "  he  shouted  ;  "  and 
as  for  that  brute"  (pointing  with  his  fork  towards  Corsica), 
"  who  rules  there,  his  time  is  soon  up." 

As  nobody  seemed  inclined  to  reply,  he  continued  : 
"  Since  the  coming  of  the  second  Jesus  Christ,  Garibaldi, 
the  work  goes  on  like  lightning.  As  soon  as  the  priests 
are  down,  the  Republic  will  come." 

This  man,  so  one  of  the  passengers  informed  me,  had 
come  on  board  en  bourgeois,  but  as  the  steamer  approached 
Corsica,  he  suddenly  appeared  on  deck  in  his  red  shirt. 
After  we  left  Bastia,  he  resumed  his  former  costume.  In 
the  capacity  to  swagger,  he  surpassed  any  man  I  had  seen 
since  leaving  home.  His  hair  hung  about  his  ears,  his 
nose  was  long,  his  beard  thick  and  black,  and  he  had  the 
air  of  a  priest  rather  than  a  soldier,  —  but  it  was  an  air 


424  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

which  pompously  announced  to  everybody  :  "  Garibaldi  is 
the  Second  Christ,  and  I  am  his  Prophet ! " 

Over  the  smooth  sea  we  sped  down  the  picturesque  Cor- 
sican  coast.  An  indentation  in  the  grand  mountain  chain 
showed  us  the  valley  of  the  Golo  ;  then  came  the  heights 
of  Vescovato,  where  Filippini  wrote  the  history  of  the 
island,  and  Murat  took  refuge  after  losing  his  Neapolitan 
kingdom  ;  then,  Cervione,  where  the  fantastic  King  The 
odore,  the  First  and  Last,  held  his  capital ;  after  which 
night  fell  upon  the  shores,  and  we  saw  only  mountain 
phantoms  in  the  moonlight. 

At  sunrise  the  steward  called  me. 

"  We  are  passing  the  bocca"  —  the  Straits  of  Bonifacio, 
—  said  he,  "  and  will  soon  be  at  Maddalena." 

It  was  an  archipelago  of  rocks  in  which  the  steamer  was 
entangled.  All  around  us,  huge  gray  masses,  with  scarcely 
a  trace  of  vegetation,  rose  from  the  wave ;  in  front,  the 
lofty,  dark  blue,  serrated  mountains  of  Sardinia  pierced  the 
sky,  and  far  to  the  right  faded  the  southern  shores  of  Cor 
sica.  But,  bleak  and  forsaken  as  was  the  scene,  it  had  a 
curious  historical  interest.  As  an  opening  between  the 
islands  disclosed  the  white  rocks,  citadel,  and  town  of  Bon 
ifacio,  some  fifteen  miles  distant,  I  remembered  the  first 
important  episode  in  the  life  of  Napoleon.  It  was  in  the 
year  1792,  while  Pascal  Paoli  was  still  President  of  Cor 
sica.  An  expedition  against  Sardinia  having  been  deter 
mined  upon  by  the  Republic,  Napoleon,  after,  perhaps,  the 
severest  struggle  of  his  life,  was  elected  second  in  com 
mand  of  the  battalion  of  Ajaccio.  A  work1  written  by  M. 
Nasica,  of  the  latter  place,  gives  a  singular  picture  of  the 
fierce  family  feuds  which  preceded  the  election.  It  was 
the  commencement  of  that  truly  Corsican  vendetta  between 
Pozzo  di  Borgo  and  the  future  emperor,  which  only  ter 
minated  when  the  former  was  able  to  say,  after  Waterloo  : 
"  I  have  not  killed  Napoleon,  but  I  have  thrown  the  last 
shovelful  of  earth  upon  him." 

1  Ifemoires  sur  fEiif<ince  et  la  Jeunesse  de.  Napoleon.    Ajaccio,  1853. 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALENA.  425 

The  first  attempt  of  the  expedition  was  to  be  directed 
against  the  island  of  Maddalena.  A  battery  was  planted 
on  the  uninhabited  rock  of  Santa  Teresa  (beside  which  \ve 
passed),  and  Maddalena  was  bombarded,  but  without  effect. 
Napoleon  prepared  a  plan  for  its  capture,  but  Colonna,  the 
first  in  command,  refused  to  allow  him  to  make  the  at 
tempt.  A  heated  discussion  took  place  in  the  presence  of 
the  other  officers,  and  Napoleon,  becoming  at  last  indig 
nant  and  impatient,  turned  to  the  latter,  and  said :  "  He 
doesn't  know  what  I  mean." 

"  You  are  an  insolent  fellow,"  retorted  Colonna. 

Napoleon  muttered,  as  he  turned  away :  "  We  have  only 
a  cheval  de  parade  for  commander." 

At  Bonifacio,  afterwards,  his  career  came  near  being 
suddenly  terminated.  Some  Marseilles  marines  who  landed 
there  provoked  a  quarrel  with  the  soldiers  of  the  Corsican 
battalion.  Napoleon  interfered  to  restore  order,  where 
upon  he  was  seized  by  the  fierce  Marseillaise,  who  would 
have  hung  him  to  a  lamp-post,  but  for  the  timely  aid  of  the 
civil  authorities.  The  disfavor  of  Paoli,  who  was  at  that  time 
under  the  control  of  Pozzo  di  Borgo,  finally  drove  Napo 
leon  from  Corsica  ;  so  that  the  machinations  of  his  bitter 
est  enemy  really  forced  him  into  the  field  where  he  was  so 
suddenly  and  splendidly  successful. 

While  we  were  recalling  this  fateful  fragment  of  history, 
the  steamer  entered  the  narrow  strait  between  Maddalena 
and  the  main  land  of  Sardinia,  and  at  the  same  moment 
two  stately  French  vessels  made  their  appearance,  crossing 
tracks  on  the  route  between  Marseilles  and  the  Orient. 
The  rocky  island  of  San  Stefano,  lying  opposite  Madda 
lena,  forms  a  sheltered  harbor,  which  Caprera,  rising  east 
ward  against  the  sea,  renders  completely  landlocked.  But 
what  a  wild,  torn,  distorted,  desolate  panorama  !  A  thin 
sprinkling  of  lavender,  rosemary,  and  myrtle  serves  but  to 
set  off  the  cold  gray  of  the  granite  rocks;  the  summits 
rise  in  natural  bastions,  or  thrust  out  huge  fangs  or  twisted 


42G  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

horns.  There  is  nowhere  any  softening  of  these  violent 
outlines.  They  print  themselves  on  the  farthest  distance, 
and  one  is  not  surprised  that  the  little  village  of  Madda- 
lena,  the  white  house  on  Caprera,  and  two  or  three  fishing- 
huts  on  the  Sardinian  shore,  are  the  only  signs  of  human 
habitation. 

Beside  the  village,  however,  there  was  a  little  valley, 
near  the  head  of  which  a  cool,  white  villa,  perched  on  a 
mass  of  rocks,  shone  against  the  rugged  background. 

"  That  is  my  place,"  said  the  old  Englishman,  "  and  I 
shall  be  happy  to  see  you  there." 

"  I  shall  certainly  come,  if  we  have  time  enough  after 
visiting  Caprera,"  I  replied. 

The  Englishman,  an  entire  stranger,  was  very  kind  in 
his  offers  of  service ;  the  Garibaldian  was  so  pompous  and 
arrogant  in  his  manner,  that  I  soon  perceived  that  no 
assistance  could  be  expected  from  him.  Nevertheless, 
chance  threw  us  into  the  same  boat,  on  landing  in  the 
little  harbor.  I  had  ascertained  that  there  was  a  hotel, 
kept  by  one  Remigio,  in  Maddalena  ;  and  although  one  of 
"our  mutual  friends"  had  advised  me  to  go  directly  to 
Caprera,  —  Garibaldi's  hospitality  being  as  certain  as  sun 
rise,  or  the  change  of  the  tide,  —  I  determined  to  stop  with 
Remigio,  and  forward  my  letters.  When  the  Prophet  of 
the  Second  Coming  stepped  on  shore,  he  was  accosted  by 
an  old  veteran,  who  wore  a  red  shirt  and  blue  goggles. 
They  embraced  and  kissed  each  other,  and  presently  came 
up  another  weather-beaten  person,  with  an  unmistakably 
honest  and  amiable  face,  who  was  hailed  with  the  name  of 
"  Basso  !  " 

I  knew  the  name  as  that  of  one  of  Garibaldi's  most  faith 
ful  followers,  and  as  the  boat,  meanwhile,  had  been  re 
tained  to  convey  the  party  to  Caprera,  I  stepped  up  to 
Basso  and  the  Prophet  and  asked  :  "  Will  one  of  you  be 
good  enough  to  take  these  letters  to  General  Garibaldi, 
and  let  the  boatman  bring  me  word  when  it  will  be  con 
venient  for  him  to  receive  me  ?  " 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALENA.  427 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Prophet,  taking  the  letters,  and  re 
marking,  as  he  pointed  to  Basso,  "  this  is  the  General's 
secretary." 

The  latter  made  a  modest  gesture,  disclaiming  the  honor, 
and  said :  "  No ;  you  know  that  you  are  really  his  secre 
tary." 

The  hoat  shoved  off  with  them.  "  It  is  a  queer  com 
pany,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  and  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have 
intrusted  the  letters  to  their  care."  One  letter  was  from  a 
gentleman  in  a  high  diplomatic  position,  whose  reputation 
as  a  scholar  is  world-wide,  and  who  possesses  the  most  gen 
erous,  and  at  the  same  time  the  most  intelligent,  sympathy 
with  the  aspirations  of  the  Italian  people.  The  other  was 
from  a  noble  woman,  who  has  given  the  best  energies  of 
her  life  to  the  cause,  —  who  shared  the  campaigns  of  Sicily 
and  Calabria,  and  even  went  under  fire  at  Monte  Rotondo 
and  Mentana  to  succor  the  wounded.  Probably  no  two 
persons  had  a  better  right  to  claim  the  courtesy  of  Gari 
baldi  in  favor  of  one.  who,  though  a  stranger,  was  yet  an 
ardent  friend. 

The  Hotel  Remigio  directly  fronted  the  quay.  No  sign 
announced  its  character,  but  the  first  room  we  entered  had 
a  billiard-table,  beyond  which  was  a  kitchen.  Here  we 
found  La  Remigia,  who  conducted  us  up  a  sumptuous  stair 
case  of  black  and  white  marble  (unwashed)  into  a  shabby 
dining-room,  and  then  left  us  to  prepare  coffee.  A  door 
into  an  adjoining  apartment  stood  half-open.  I  looked  in, 
but  seeing  a  naked  leg  stretched  out  upon  a  dirty  blanket, 
made  a  speedy  retreat.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  coffee 
came,  without  milk,  but  with  a  bottle  of  rum  instead.  The 
servitress  was  a  little  girl,  whose  hands  were  of  so  ques 
tionable  a  complexion,  that  we  turned  away  lest  we  should 
see  her  touch  the  cups.  I  need  not  say  that  the  beverage 
was  vile  ;  the  reader  will  have  already  guessed  that. 

We  summoned  La  Remigia,  to  ascertain  whether  a 
breakfast  was  possible.  "  Eh,  die  vuole  1 "  ("  What  can  you 


428  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

expect  ?  ")  said  she.  "  This  is  a  poor  little  island.  What 
would  you  like  to  have  ?  " 

Limiting  our  wishes  to  the  probabilities  of  the  place,  we 
modestly  suggested  eggs  and  fish,  whereat  La  Remigia 
looked  relieved,  and  promised  that  we  should  have  both. 
Then,  although  the  heat  was  furious,  I  went  forth  for  a 
stroll  along  the  shore.  A  number  of  bronze  boys  had 
pulled  off  their  tow  shirts,  and  were  either  sitting  naked 
on  the  rocks,  or  standing  in  the  shallow  coves,  and  splash 
ing  each  other  with  scallop-shells.  Two  or  three  fishing- 
boats  were  lazily  pulling  about  the  strait,  but  the  greater 
part  of  the  population  of  Maddalena  sat  in  the  shade  and 
did  nothing. 

The  place  contains  about  fifteen  hundred  inhabitants, 
but  scarcely  one  half  that  number  were  at  home.  The 
others  were  sailors,  or  coral  fishers,  who  are  always  absent 
during  the  summer  months.  The  low,  bright-colored 
houses  are  scattered  along  the  shore,  in  such  order  as  the 
huge,  upheaved  masses  of  granite  will  allow,  and  each 
street  terminates  in  a  stony  path.  In  the  scanty  garden- 
inclosures,  bristling  masses  of  the  fruit-bearing  cactus  over 
hang  the  walls,  repellant  as  the  rocks  from  which  they 
spring.  Evidently  the  place  supplies  nothing  except  the 
article  offish;  all  other  necessaries  of  life  must  be  brought 
from  Sardinia.  The  men  are  principally  pensioned  vet 
erans  of  the  Italian  navy,  who  are  satisfied  with  the  sight 
of  blue  water  and  passing  vessels ;  the  women  (rock- 
widows,  one  might  call  them),  having  the  very  simplest 
household  duties  to  perform,  usually  sit  at  their  doors, 
with  some  kind  of  knitting  or  netting,  and  chatter  with 
their  nearest  neighbors.  I  had  scarcely  walked  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  before  the  sleepy  spirit  of  the  place  took  hold  of 
my  feet,  and  I  found  myself  contemplating  the  shadowy 
spots  among  the  rocks,  much  more  than  the  wild  and 
rugged  island  scenery  across  the  strait. 

Garibaldi's  house  on   Caprera  flashed  in   the   sun,  and 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALKXA.  429 

after  a  while  I  saw  a  boat  pulling  away  from  the  landing- 
place  below  it.  I  returned  to  the  harbor  to  meet  the  boat 
man,  and  receive  the  answer  which  my  letters  required. 
It  was  a  red-headed  fellow,  with  a  face  rather  Scotch  than 
Italian,  and  a  blunt,  direct  manner  of  speech  which  cor 
responded  thereto. 

"  The  General  says  he  is  not  well,  and  can't  see  you," 
said  he. 

"  Have  you  a  letter  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No  ;  but  he  told  me  so." 

"  He  is  sick,  then  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  boatman,  "  he  is  not  sick." 

"  Where  did  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  Out  of  doors.  He  went  down  to  the  sea  this  morning 
and  took  a  bath.  Then  he  worked  in  the  garden." 

The  first  sensation  of  a  man  who  receives  an  unexpected 
blow  is  incredulity,  and  not  exasperation.  It  required  a 
slight  effort  to  believe  the  boatman's  words,  and  the  next 
impression  was  that  there  was  certainly  some  misunder 
standing.  If  Garibaldi  were  well  enough  to  walk  about 
his  fields,  he  was  able  to  receive  a  visitor ;  if  he  had  read 
the  letters  I  forwarded,  a  decent  regard  for  the  writers 
would  have  withheld  him  from  sending  a  rude  verbal  an 
swer  by  the  mouth  of  a  boatman.  The  whole  proceeding 
was  so  utterly  at  variance  with  all  I  had  heard  of  his  per 
sonal  refinement  and  courtesy,  that  I  was  driven  to  the 
suspicion  that  his  followers  had  suppressed  the  letters,  and 
represented  me,  perhaps,  as  a  stranger  of  not  very  repu 
table  appearance. 

Seeing  that  we  were  stranded  for  three  days  upon  Mad- 
dalena,  —  until  the  steamer  returned  from  Porto  Torres, 
—  I  determined  to  assure  myself  whether  the  suspicion 
was  just.  I  could,  at  least,  give  the  General  a  chance  to 
correct  any  misunderstanding.  I  therefore  wrote  a  note, 
mentioning  the  letters  and  the  answer  I  had  received 

o 

through  the  boatman  ;   referring  to  other  friends  of  his  in 


400  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

America  and  Italy,  whom  I  knew ;  assuring  him  that  I  had 
had  no  intention  of  thrusting  myself  upon  his  hospitality, 
but  had  only  meant  to  desire  a  brief  personal  interview. 
I  abstained,  of  course,  from  repeating  the  request,  as  he 
would  thus  be  able  to  grant  it  more  gracefully,  if  a  misrep 
resentation  had  really  been  made.  Summoning  the  red 
headed  boatman,  I  gave  him  the  note,  with  the  express 
command  that  he  should  give  it  into  Garibaldi's  own 
hands,  and  not  into  those  of  any  of  the  persons  about  him. 

La  Remigia  gave  us  as  good  a  breakfast  as  the  house 
could  furnish.  The  wine  was  acutely  sour,  but  the  fish 
were  fresh  and  delicate.  Moreover,  the  room  had  been 
swept,  and  the  hands  of  the  little  servant  subjected  to 
a  thorough  washing.  There  was  a  dessert  of  cherries, 
brought  all  the  way  from  Genoa,  and  then  the  hostess,  as 
she  brought  the  coffee,  asked :  "  When  will  your  Excel 
lencies  go  to  Caprera?  " 

"  If  the  General  is  sick,"  I  remarked,  "  we  shall  prob 
ably  not  be  able  to  see  him." 

*'  He  was  not  well  two  or  three  weeks  ago,"  said  she ; 
"  he  had  the  rheumatism  in  his  hands.  But  now  he  goes 
about  his  fields  the  same  as  before." 

A  second  suspicion  came  into  my  head.  What  if  the 
boatman  should  not  go  to  Caprera  with  my  letter,  but 
merely  sleep  two  or  three  hours  in  the  shade,  and  then 
come  back  to  me  with  an  invented  verbal  answer  ?  It  was 
now  high  noon,  and  a  truly  African  sun  beat  down  on  the 
unsheltered  shores.  The  veterans  had  been  chased  from 
their  seats  on  the  quay,  and  sat  in  dozing,  silent  rows  on 
the  shady  sides  of  the  houses.  A  single  boat,  with  sail 
spread,  hardly  moved  over  the  dazzling  blue  of  the  harbor. 
There  was  no  sign  of  active  life  anywhere,  except  in  the 
fleas. 

Leaving  my  wife  in  La  Remigia' s  care,  I  took  one  of  the 
rough  paths  behind  the  town,  and  climbed  to  a  bold  mass 
of  rocks,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  strait  from  Ca- 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALENA.  431 

prera  to  Sardinia.  Far  off,  beyond  the  singular  horns  and 
needles  of  rock,  cresting  the  mountains  of  the  latter  island, 
a  thunder-gust  was  brewing ;  but  the  dark,  cool  shadows 
there  only  served,  by  contrast,  to  make  the  breathless  heat 
on  Maddalena  more  intense.  Nevertheless,  a  light  wind 
finally  came  from  somewhere,  and  I  stretched  myself  out 
on  the  granite,  with  Caprera  before  my  eyes,  and  reflected 
on  the  absurdity  of  any  one  human  being  taking  pains  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  any  other  particular  human 
beingf,  while  I  watched  the  few  boats  visible  on  the  surface 

S7 

of  the  water  below.  One,  rowing  and  sailing,  rounded  the 
point  of  San  Stefano,  and  disappeared ;  another  crept 
along  the  nearer  shore,  looking  for  fish,  coral,  or  sponges ; 
and  a  third,  at  last,  making  a  long  tack,  advanced  into  the 
channel  of  La  Moneta,  in  front  of  Garibaldi's  residence. 
It  was  Red-head,  honestly  doing  his  duty.  Two  or  three 
hours  went  by,  and  he  did  not  return.  When  the  air  had 
been  somewhat  cooled  by  the  distant  thunder,  we  set  forth 
to  seek  the  English  recluse.  The  path  followed  the  coast, 
winding  between  rocks  and  clumps  of  myrtle  in  blossom, 
until  the  villa  looked  down  upon  us  from  the  head  of  a 
stony  dell.  On  three  sides,  the  naked  granite  rose  in  ir 
regular  piles  against  the  sky,  while  huge  blocks,  tumbled 
from  above,  lay  scattered  over  the  scanty  vineyards  below. 
In  sheltered  places  there  were  a  few  pines  and  cedars,  of 
stunted  growth.  The  house,  perched  upon  a  mass  of  rock 
forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  resembled  a  small  fortress.  As  we 
approached  it,  over  the  dry,  stony  soil,  the  bushes  rustling 
as  the  lizards  darted  through  them,  the  place  assumed  an 
air  of  savage  loneliness.  No  other  human  dwelling  was 
visible  on  any  of  the  distant  shores,  and  no  sail  brightened 
the  intervening  water. 

The  Englishman  came  forth  and  welcomed  us  with  a 
pleasant,  old-fashioned  courtesy.  A  dark-eyed  Sardinian 
lady,  whom  he  introduced  to  us  as  his  daughter-in-law,  and 
her  father,  were  his  temporary  guests.  The  people  after- 


432  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

wards  told  me,  in  Maddalena,  that  he  had  adopted  and 
educated  a  Neapolitan  boy,  who,  however,  had  turned  out 
to  be  a  'inanvais  sujet.  We  were  ushered  into  a  large 
vaulted  room,  the  walls  of  which,  to  my  astonishment,  were 
covered  with  admirable  paintings  —  genuine  works  of  the 
Flemish  and  Italian  masters.  There  was  a  Cuyp,  a  Paul 
Potter,  a  Ruysdael,  a  Massimo,  and  several  excellent  pic 
tures  of  the  school  of  Corregio.  A  splendid  library  filled 
the  adjoining  hall,  and  recent  English  and  Italian  news 
papers  lay  upon  the  table.  I  soon  perceived  that  our  host 
was  a  man  of  unusual  taste  and  culture,  who  had  studied 
much  and  travelled  much,  before  burying  himself  in  this 
remote  corner  of  the  Mediterranean.  For  more  than 
twenty  years,  he  informed  us,  the  island  had  been  his 
home.  He  first  went  thither  accidentally,  in  his  search  for 
health,  and  remained  because  he  found  it  among  those 
piles  of  granite  and  cactus.  One  hardly  knows  whether  to 
admire  or  commiserate  such  a  life. 

Our  host,  however,  had  long  outlived  his  yearning  for 
the  busy  world  of  men.  His  little  plantation,  wrung  from 
Nature  with  immense  labor  and  apparently  great  expense, 
now  absorbed  all  his  interest.  He  had  bought  foreign 
trees  —  Mexican,  African,  and  Australian  —  and  set  them 
in  sheltered  places,  built  great  walls  to  break  the  sweep  of 
the  wind  which  draws  through  the  Straits  of  Bonifacio, 
constructed  tanks  for  collecting  the  rains,  terraces  for  vine 
yards,  and  so  fought  himself  into  the  possession  of  a  little 
productive  soil.  But  the  winds  kept  down  the  growth  of 
his  pines,  the  islanders  cut  his  choicest  trees  and  carried 
them  off  for  fire-wood,  and  it  was  clear  that  the  scanty  be 
ginnings  we  saw  were  the  utmost  he  would  be  able  to  keep 
and  hold  against  so  many  hostile  influences. 

After  we  had  inspected  the  costly  picture-gallery,  and 
partaken  of  refreshments,  he  took  us  to  his  orange-garden, 
a  square  inclosure,  with  walls  twenty  feet  high,  at  the  foot 
of  the  rocks.  The  interior  was  divided  by  high  ramparts 


THE    ISLAND    OF    MADIULENA.  433 

of  woven  brushwood  into  compartments  about  thirty  feet 
square,  each  of  which  contained  half  a  dozen  squat,  bat 
tered-looking  trees,  I  should  have  imagined  the  outer 
walls  high  enough  to  break  the  strongest  wind,  but  our 
host  informed  me  that  they  merely  changed  its  character, 
giving  to  the  current  a  spiral  motion  which  almost  pulled 
the  trees  out  of  the  earth.  The  interior  divisions  of  brush 
wood  were  a  necessity.  Above  the  house  there  was  a  sim 
ilar  inclosure  for  pear  and  apple  trees.  The  vines,  kept 
close  to  the  earth,  and  tied  to  strong  stakes,  were  more 
easily  tended.  But  the  same  amount  of  labor  and  ex 
pense  would  have  created  a  little  paradise  on  the  shores  of 
Sorrento,  or  the  Riviera  di  Ponente ;  iii  fact,  as  many 
oranges  might  have  been  raised  in  Minnesota,  with  less 
trouble. 

According  to  the  traditions  of  the  people,  the  whole  isl 
and  was  wooded  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  But,  as 
savage  tribes  worship  trees,  so  the  first  inclination  of  the 
civilized  man  is  to  destroy  them.  I  still  hold  to  the  be 
lief  that  the  disforested  Levant  might  be  reclothed  in  fifty 
years,  if  the  people  could  be  prevented  from  interfering 
with  the  young  growth. 

When  we  reached  Maddalena,  the  boatman  had  re 
turned  from  Caprera.  This  time  he  brought  me  a  note, 
in  Garibaldi's  handwriting,  containing  two  or  three  lines, 
which,  however,  were  not  more  satisfactory  than  the  previ 
ous  message.  "  Per  motive  dc  miei  incomodi  "  (on  account 
of  my  ailments),  said  the  General,  he  could  not  receive 
me.  This  was  an  equivocation,  but  no  explanation.  His 
motive  for  slighting  the  letters  of  two  such  friends,  and  re- 

t>  & 

fusing  to  see  one  who  had  come  to  Maddalena  to  testify  a 
sympathy  and  respect  which  had  nothing  in  common  with 
the  curiosity  of  the  crowd,  remained  a  mystery.  In  the 
little  fishing-village,  where  nothing  could  long  be  kept 
secret,  the  people  seemed  to  be  aware  of  all  that  had  oc 
curred.  They  possessed  too  much  natural  tact  and  deli- 

23 


4C4  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

cacy  to  question  us,  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  they  were 
much  surprised.  Red-head  made  quite  a  long  face  when 
I  told  him,  after  reading  the  letter,  that  I  should  not  nee4 
his  boat  for  a  trip  to  Caprera. 

After  allowing  all  possible  latitude  to  a  man's  individual 
right  to  choose  his  visitors,  the  manner  in  which  my  appli 
cation  had  been  received  still  appeared  to  me  very  rude 
and  boorish.  Perhaps  one's  first  experience  of  the  kind  is 
always  a  little  more  annoying  than  is  necessary ;  but  the 
reader  must  consider  that  we  had  no  escape  from  the  burn 
ing  rocks  of  Maddalena  until  the  third  day  afterwards,  and 
the  white  house  on  Caprera  before  our  eyes  was  a  constant 
reminder  of  the  manner  or  mood  of  its  inmate.  Questions 
of  courtesy  are  nearly  as  difficult  to  discuss  as  questions  of 
taste,  each  man  having  his  own  private  standard ;  yet,  I 
think,  few  persons  will  censure  me  for  having  then  and 
there  determined  that,  for  the  future,  I  would  take  no  par 
ticular  pains  to  seek  the  acquaintance  of  a  distinguished  man. 

We  were  fast  on  Maddalena,  as  I  have  said,  and  the 
most  we  could  make  of  it  did  not  seem  to  be  much.  I 
sketched  a  little  the  next  morning,  until  the  heat  drove  me 
indoors.  Towards  evening,  following  La  Remigia's  coun 
sel,  we  set  forth  on  a  climb  to  the  Guardia  Vecchia,  a 
deserted  fortress  on  the  highest  point  of  the  island.  Thun 
der-storms,  as  before,  growled  along  the  mountains  of  Sar 
dinia,  without  overshadowing  or  cooling  the  rocks  of  the 
desert  archipelago.  The  masses  of  granite,  among  which 
we  clambered,  still  radiated  the  noonday  heat,  and  the 
clumps  of  lentisk  and  arbutus  were  scarcely  less  arid  in 
appearance  than  the  soil  from  which  they  grew.  Over  the 
summit,  however,  blew  a  light  breeze.  We  pushed  open 
the  door  of  the  fort,  mounted  to  a  stone  platform  with  ram 
parts  pierced  for  six  cannon,  and  sat  down  in  the  shade  of 
the  watch-tower.  The  view  embraced  the  whole  Strait  of 
Bonifacio  and  its  shores,  from  the  peak  of  Incudine  in  Cor 
sica,  to  the  headland  of  Terranova,  on  the  eastern  coast  of 


THE    ISLAND    OF   MADDALP.XA.  435 

Sardinia.  Two  or  three  villages,  high  up  on  the  mountains 
of  the  latter  island,  the  little  fishing-town  at  our  feet,  the 
far-off  citadel  of  Bonifacio,  and  —  still  persistently  visible 
-  the  house  on  Caprera,  rather  increased  than  removed 
the  loneliness  and  desolation  of  the  scenery.  Island  rising 
behind  island  thrust  up  new  distortions  of  rock  of  red  or 
hot-gray  hues  which  became  purple  in  the  distance,  and  the 
dark-blue  reaches  of  sea  dividing  them  were  hard  and  life 
less  as  plains  of  glass.  Perhaps  the  savage  and  sterile 
forms  of  the  foreground  impressed  their  character  upon 
every  part  of  the  panorama,  since  we  knew  that  they  were 
everywhere  repeated.  In  this  monotony  lay  something 
sublime,  and  yet  profoundly  melancholy. 

As  we  have  now  the  whole  island  of  Caprera  full  and 
fair  before  us,  let  us  see  what  sort  of  a  spot  the  hero  of 
Italian  Unity  has  chosen  for  his  home.  I  may  at  the  same 
time,  without  impropriety,  add  such  details  of  his  life  and 
habits,  and  such  illustrations  of  his  character,  as  were 
freely  communicated  by  persons  familiar  with  both,  during 
our  stay  in  Maddalena. 

Caprera,  as  seen  from  the  Guardia  Vecchia.  is  a  little 
less  forbidding  than  its  neighbor  island.  It  is  a  mass  of 
reddish-gray  rock,  three  to  four  miles  in  length  and  not 
more  than  a  mile  in  breadth,  its  axis  lying  at  a  right  angle 
to  the  course  of  the  Sardinian  coast.  The  shores  rise 
steeply  from  the  water  to  a  central  crest  of  naked  rock, 
some  twelve  hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  The  wild  shrub 
bery  of  the  Mediterranean  —  myrtle,  arbutus,  Icntisk,  and 
box  —  is  sprinkled  over  the  lower  slopes,  and  three  or  four 
lines  of  bright,  even  green,  betray  the  existence  of  ter 
raced  grain-fields.  The  house,  a  plain  white  quadrang'e, 
two  stories  in  height,  is  seated  on  the  slope,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  landing-place.  Behind  it  there  are  fields 
and  vineyards,  and  a  fertile  garden-valley  called  the  Fon- 
tanaccia.  which  are  not  visible  from  Maddalena.  The 
house,  in  its  present  commodious  form,  was  built  by  Victor 


436  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

Emanuel,  during  Garibaldi's  absence  from  the  island,  and 
without  his  knowledge.  The  latter  has  spent  a  great  deal 
of  money  in  wresting  a  few  fields  from  the  unwilling  rock, 
and  his  possession,  even  yet,  has  but  a  moderate  value. 
The  greater  part  of  the  island  can  only  be  used  as  a  range 
for  cattle,  and  will  nourish  about  a  hundred  head. 

Garibaldi,  however,  has  a  great  advantage  over  all  the 
political  personages  of  our  day,  in  the  rugged  simplicity  of 
his  habits.  Pie  has  no  single  expensive  taste.  Whether 
he  sleeps  on  a  spring -mattress  or  a  rock,  eats  flet  or  fish 
and  macaroni,  is  all  the  same  to  him  —  nay,  he  prefers  the 
simpler  fare.  The  persons  whom  he  employs  eat  at  the 
same  table  with  him,  and  his  guests,  whatever  their  char 
acter  or  title,  are  no  better  served.  An  Englishman  who 
went  to  Caprera  as  the  representative  of  certain  societies, 
and  took  with  him,  as  a  present,  a  dozen  of  the  finest  harm-, 
and  four  dozen  bottles  of  the  choicest  Chateau  Margaux, 
was  horrified  to  find,  the  next  day,  that  each  gardener, 
herdsman,  and  fisherman  at  the  table  had  a  generous  lump 
of  ham  on  his  plate  and  a  bottle  of  Chateau  Margaux 
beside  it !  Whatever  delicacy  comes  to  Garibaldi  is  served 
in  the  same  way ;  and  of  the  large  sums  of  money  contrib 
uted  by  his  friends  and  admirers,  he  has  retained  scarcely 
anything.  All  is  given  to  "  The  Cause." 

Garibaldi's  three  prominent  traits  of  character  —  hon 
esty,  unselfishness,  and  independence  —  are  so  marked, 
and  have  been  so  variously  illustrated,  that  no  one  in  Italy 
(probably  not  even  Pius  IX.  or  Antonelli)  dares  to  dis 
pute  his  just  claim  to  them.  Add  the  element  of  a  rare 
and  inextinguishable  enthusiasm,  and  we  have  the  qualities 
which  have  made  the  man.  He  is  wonderfully  adapted  to 
be  the  leader  of  an  impulsive  and  imaginative  people,  dur 
ing  those  periods  when  the  rush  and  swell  of  popular  senti 
ment  overbears  alike  diplomacy  and  armed  force.  Such  a 
time  came  to  him  in  1860,  and  the  Sicilian  and  Calabrian 
campaign  will  always  stand  as  the  climax  of  his  achieve- 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALEXA.  437 

ments.  I  do  not  speak  of  Aspromonte  or  Montana  now. 
The  history  of  those  attempts  cannot  be  written  until  Gari 
baldi's  private  knowledge  of  them  may  be  safely  made 
known  to  the  world. 

It  occurred  to  me,  as  I  looked  upon  Caprera,  that  only 
an  enthusiastic,  imaginative  nature  could  be  content  to  live 
in  such  an  isolation.  It  is  hardly  alone  disgust  with  the 
present  state  of  Italy  which  keeps  him  from  that  seat  in 
the  Italian  Parliament,  to  which  he  is  regularly  reflected. 
He  can  neither  use  the  tact  of  the  politician,  nor  employ 
the  expedients  of  the  statesman.  He  has  no  patience  with 
adverse  opinion,  no  clear,  objective  perception  of  character, 
no  skill  to  calculate  the  reciprocal  action  and  cumulative 
force  of  political  ideas.  He  simply  sees  an  end,  and  strikes 
a  bee-line  for  it.  As  a  military  commander  he  is  admir 
able,  so  long  as  operations  can  be  conducted  under  his  im 
mediate  personal  control.  In  short,  he  belongs  to  that 
small  class  of  great  men,  whose  achievements,  fame,  and 
influence  rest  upon  excellence  of  character  and  a  certain 
magnetic,  infectious  warmth  of  purpose,  rather  than  on 
high  intellectual  ability.  There  may  be  wiser  Italian  pat 
riots  than  he ;  but  there  is  none  so  pure  and  devoted. 

From  all  that  was  related  to  me  of  Garibaldi,  I  should 
judge  that  his  weak  points  are,  an  incapacity  to  distin 
guish  between  the  steady  aspirations  of  his  life  and  those 
sudden  impulses  which  come  to  every  ardent  and  passion 
ate  nature,  and  an  amiable  weakness  (perhaps  not  dis 
connected  from  vanity)  which  enables  a  certain  class  of 
adventurers  to  misuse  and  mislead  him.  His  impatience 
of  contrary  views  naturally  subjects  him  to  the  influence 
of  the  latter  class,  whose  cue  it  is  to  flatter  and  encourage. 
I  know  an  American  general  whose  reputation  has  been 
much  damaged  in  the  same  way.  The  three  men  who 
were  his  companions  on  Caprera  during  my  stay  in  Mad- 
dalena  were  Basso,  who  occasionally  acts  as  secretary ;  he 
whom  I  termed  the  Prophet,  a  certain  Dr.  Occhipinti 


488  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

(Painted -Eyes),  a  maker  of  salves  and  pomatums,  and 
Guzmaroli,  formerly  a  priest,  and  ignominiously  expelled 
from  Garibaldi's  own  corps.  There  are  other  hangers-on, 
whose  presence  from  time  to  time  in  Caprera  is  a  source 
of  anxiety  to  the  General's  true  friends. 

Caprera  formerly  belonged  to  an  English  gentleman,  a 
passionate  sportsman,  who  settled  there  thirty  years  ago  on 
account  of  the  proximity  of  the  island  to  the  rich  game 
regions  of  Sardinia.  Garibaldi,  dining  with  this  gentle 
man  at  Maddalena  in  1856,  expressed  his  desire  to  procure 
a  small  island  on  the  coast  for  his  permanent  home,  where 
upon  the  former  offered  to  sell  him  a  part  of  Caprera  at 
cost.  The  remainder  was  purchased  by  a  subscription 
made  in  England,  and  headed  by  the  Duke  of  Sutherland. 
I  was  informed  that  Garibaldi's  faithful  and  noble-hearted 
friends,  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Chambers  of  Scotland,  had  done 
much  towards  making  the  island  productive  and  habitable, 
but  I  doubt  whether  its  rocks  yet  yield  enough  for  the  sup 
port  of  the  family. 

The  General's  oldest  son,  Menotti,  his  daughter  Teresa, 
her  husband  Major  Canzio,  and  their  five  children,  Mameli, 
Anzani,  Lincoln,  Anita,  and  John  Brown,  have  their  home 
at  Caprera.  Menotti  is  reported  to  be  a  good  soldier  and 
sailor,  but  without  his  father's  abilities.  The  younger  son, 
Ricciotti,  spends  most  of  his  time  in  England.  Teresa, 
however,  is  a  female  Garibaldi,  full  of  spirit,  courage,  and 
enthusiasm.  She  has  great  musical  talent,  and  a  voice 
which  would  give  her,  were  there  need,  a  prima  donna's 
station  in  any  theatre.  Her  father,  also,  is  an  excellent 
singer,  and  the  two  are  fond  of  making  the  rocks  of  Ca 
prera  resound  with  his  Inno  ai  JRomani. 

Garibaldi  was  born  at  Nice  in  1807,  and  is  therefore  now 
sixty-one  years  old.  His  simple  habits  of  life  have  pre 
served  his  physical  vigor,  but  he  suffers  from  frequent  se 
vere  attacks  of  rheumatism.  The  wound  received  at  Aspro- 
monte,  I  was  told,  no  longer  occasions  him  inconvenience. 


THE   ISLAND    OF    MADDALEXA.  430 

In  features  and  complexion  he  shows  his  Lombard  and  Ger 
man  descent.  His  name  is  simply  the  Italian  for  HeribalJ, 
"  bold  in  war."  In  the  tenth  century  Garibald  I.  and  II. 
were  kings  of  Bavaria.  In  fact  much  of  the  best  blood  of 
Italy  is  German,  however  reluctant  the  Italians  may  be  to 
acknowledge  the  fact.  The  Marquis  D'Azeglio,  whose 
memoirs  have  recently  been  published,  says  in  his  auto 
biographical  sketch,  "  Educated  in  the  hatred  of  the  7<-vA-.v- 
chi  (Germans),  I  was  greatly  astonished  to  find  from  my 
historical  studies,  that  I  was  myself  a  Tedesco"  The 
"pride  of  race"  really  is  one  of  the  absurdest  of  human 
vanities.  I  have  heard  half-breed  Mexicans  boast  of  their 
"  Gothic  blood,"  born  Englishmen  who  settled  in  Virginia 
talk  of  their  "  Southern  blood,"  and  all  the  changes  rung  on 
Cavalier,  Norman,  or  Roman  ancestry.  The  Slavic  Greeks 
of  Athens  call  themselves  "  Hellenes,"  and  Theodore  of 
Abyssinia  claimed  a  direct  descent  from  Solomon.  Gari 
baldi  might  have  become  purely  Italian  in  name,  as  Duca 
di  Calatafimi,  if  he  had  chosen.  His  refusal  was  scarcely  a 
virtue,  because  the  offer  of  the  title  was  no  temptation. 

The  strait  opening  eastward  to  the  sea  was  not  wholly  in 
sight  from  the  Guardia  Vecchia,  but  we  saw  enough  of  it  to 
enable  us  to  track  the  path  of  Garibaldi's  escape,  the  previ 
ous  October.  An  intervening  point  hid  the  cove  of  Stag- 
natello,  where  he  embarked  in  his  little  boat  called  *•  The 
Snipe  "  (beccacino)  :  yet  its  position  was  shown  by  the  Punta 
dell'  Arcaccio  beyond.  On  the  Maddalena  shore  we  saw 
the  gardens  and  cottage  of  the  English  lady,  the  "  Hermit- 
ess  of  La  Moneta,"  who  received  him  after  his  passage  of 
the  strait,  and  concealed  him  the  following  day.  While  he 
was  thus  concealed,  he  wrote  an  account  of  the  adventure 
for  his  daughter  Teresa,  yet  so  evidently  with  an  eye  to  its 
future  publication,  that  its  style  unconsciously  reflects  the 
vein  of  vanity  which  runs  through  his  character.  Before 
leaving  his  imprisonment  at  Varignano,  he  gave  permission 
to  the  Fran  von  S ,  an  intimate  friend,  to  publish  a 


4-10  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

German  translation,  from  which  I  take  the  chief  part  of 
the  narrative.  The  Italian  original  has  not  yet  been  pub 
lished. 

Garibaldi,  who  speaks  of  himself  in  the  third  person, 
as  "  The  Solitary,"  left  his  house  on  the  evening  of  the  14th 
of  October  (1867),  accompanied  by  two  friends,  Frosci- 
anti  and  Barberini,  and  a  boatman  whom  he  calls  Gio 
vanni.  They  descended  through  the  valley  of  the  Fontanac- 
cia  to  the  cove  of  Stagnatello,  off  which,  in  the  strait,  the 
Italian  war-steamers  lay  at  anchor.  What  followed  must 
be  given  in  his  own  words :  — 

"  Having  reached  the  wall  "  (at  the  bottom  of  the  culti 
vated  fields  of  the  Fontanaccia),  "  the  Solitary  took  off  his 
poncho,  and  exchanged  his  white  hat  for  a  cap  of  his  son, 
Menotti.  He  gave  the  garments,  which  he  had  removed, 
to  Barberini,  and  after  he  had  convinced  himself  that 
there  was  no  one  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  he  climbed 
upon  it,  and  sprang  down,  with  an  astonishing  activity. 

"  A  memory  of  his  adventurous  youth  inspired  him,  and 
he  felt  himself  twenty  years  younger.  Besides,  were  not 
his  sons  and  his  companions  in  arms  already  fighting 
the  mercenaries  of  the  priestly  power  ?  Could  he  keep 
quiet  ?  —  content  himself  with  the  pruning  of  his  trees,  and 
lead  the  shameful  life  of  the  moderati  ?  When  the  Sol 
itary  was  fortunately  over  the  wall,  he  said  to  Barberini : 
1  It  is  still  too  bright ;  we  will  wait  a  little  while  here,  and 
smoke  half  a  cigar.'  Thereupon  he  drew  a  match-box  — 
it  was  a  treasured  souvenir  of  the  amiable  Lady  S.  —  out 
of  his  left  pocket,  used  it,  and  then  offered  his  lighted 
4  cavour '  to  his  companion,  who  had  a  cigarette  in  readi 
ness.  The  Solitary  is  accustomed  to  cut  these  long, 
black  Tuscan  cigars  through  the  middle,  and  only  smoke 
half  a  one  at  a  time. 

"  Soon  the  nightly  shadows  began  to  obscure  the  atmos 
phere,  but  in  the  east  a  faint  gleam  made  itself  seen  as  the 
herald  of  the  approaching  queen  of  night. 


THE   ISLAND    OF   MADDALENA.  441 

"  '  Within  three-quarters  of  an  hour  the  moon  will  have 
risen  behind  the  mountains,'  remarked  the  Solitary ;  '  we 
dare  not  longer  delay.' 

"  Both  men  arose  and  betook  themselves  to  the  little 
harbor.  Giovanni  was  there  at  his  post,  and  with  his  and 
Barberini's  help,  the  beccacino  was  soon  launched  upon  the 
water.  This  is  our  smallest  boat,  designed  for  duck-shoot 
ing,  and  so  flat  that  the  one  person  who  has  room  therein 
must  lie  upon  the  bottom  and  propel  it  with  a  paddle.  In 
a  moment  the  Solitary  took  his  place,  lying  flat  upon  his 
poncho.  After  Giovanni  had  pushed  the  light  vessel  into 
the  sea,  and  convinced  himself  that  everything  was  prop 
erly  arranged,  he  himself  got  into  the  lecca,  a  boat  built 
exactly  like  the  beccacino,  only  of  greater  dimensions,  and 
rowed,  singing  loudly,  in  the  direction  of  the  yacht. 

" '  Halt !  who  goes  there  ? '  called  out  the  marines  of  the 
war-vessels,  degraded  to  alyuazils,  to  police-servants,  hail 
ing  the  boat  of  the  Sardinian,  who,  meanwhile,  did  not 
allow  himself  to  be  disturbed  either  in  his  song  or  his  jour 
ney. 

"  But  when  a  third  challenge  came  to  his  ears  he  an 
swered  :  l  I  am  going  on  board  ! '  for,  however  without  re 
sult  the  musket-shots  might  be  in  the  darkness,  they  never 
fail  to  strike  an  inexperienced  man  with  terror.  The  Sol 
itary,  now  propelling  his  beccacino  with  strokes,  now  with  a 
small  paddle,  as  is  customary  with  the  American  canoes, 
followed  his  course  along  the  shore  of  Paviano,  between 
the  cove  of  Stagnatello  and  the  cape  of  Arcaccio  ;  and 
verily  the  humming-bird,  fluttering  around  the  fragrant 
flowers  of  the  torrid  zone,  and  sipping  their  honey  in 
the  manner  of  the  industrious  bee,  is  more  noisy  than  was 
the  light  beccacino,  as  it  rapidly  shot  over  the  bosom 
of  the  Tyrrhene  sea.  Arrived  at  the  Punta  dell'  Arcac 
cio,  the  Solitary  recognized  the  faithful  Froscianti  among 
the  lofty  masses  of  stone.  'Nothing  new  as  far  as  the 
rocks  of  Arcaccio,'  whispered  the  latter  from  a  distance. 


412  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

Then  I  am  safe ! '  replied  the  Solitary,  directing  his 
boat  with  increasing  swiftness  past  the  steep  cliffs,  un 
til  he  reached  a  point  whence  he  could  see  the  little  Rab 
bit  Isle  (the  southernmost  of  three  which  inclose  the 
harbor  of  Stagnatello)  and  then  struck  out  boldly  on  the 
sea,  in  a  northwestern  direction. 

k4  As  the  Solitary  perceived  how  fast  the  moonlight  in 
creased,  he  paddled  more  rapidly,  and,  driven  by  the  si 
rocco,  his  boat  passed  the  Strait  de  la  Moneta  with  a  swift 
ness  which  a  steamer  might  have  envied. 

u  By  moonlight  and  seen  at  a  certain  distance,  each  rock 
rising  out  of  the  sea  more  or  less  resembles  a  vessel,  and 
since  the  commander  of  the  Ratazzi  squadron  had  laid  a 
requisition  upon  all  the  barks  of  Maddalena  in  order  to 
increase  the  number  of  boats  with  which  he  besieged 
Caprera,  it  appeared  as  if  the  little  archipelago  of  Moneta 
swarmed  with  shallops  and  boats,  all  for  the  purpose  of  hin 
dering  one  man  in  the  performance  of  his  duty. 

"  As  soon  as  the  Solitary  had  reached  the  little  island  of 
Giardinelli,  off  the  northeastern  coast  of  Maddalena,  he 
turned  the  leccacino  into  the  labyrinth  of  rocky  reefs, 
which  lift  themselves  like  a  bulwark  along  the  shore,  and 
from  out  this  secure  concealment  he  sharply  inspected  the 
coast,  stretching  before  him  in  the  light  of  the  moon. 

"  When  the  Solitary  found  himself  near  the  island  of 
Giardinelli,  he  saw  that  there  were  three  different  ways  by 
which  he  could  reach  the  channel  separating  it  from  Mad 
dalena  :  by  water,  paddling  around  it  either  on  the  northern 
or  the  southern  side,  or  by  landing  and  crossing  the  island 
on  foot.  After  full  consideration,  he  determined  to  try  the 
latter  plan. 

**  Whether  it  was  owing  to  the  skill  of  the  boatman  of  the 
beccacino,  or  the  neglect  of  the  unsuspicious,  sleeping  senti 
nels,  I  will  not  discuss ;  but  this  is  certain,  that  the  Sol 
itary  landed  upon  Giardinelli,  not  only  with  a  whole  skin, 
but  without  being  disturbed  by  a  single  *  Who  goes  there  ?  ' 


THE   ISLAND   OF   MADDALENA. 

Yet  he  had  scarcely  hauled  his  skiff  ashore  before  he  noticed 
that  there  were  many  impediments  in  his  way  to  the  chan 
nel  ;  since  the  island,  which  serves  as  a  pasture  to  the  cat 
tle  of  Maddalena,  is  divided  into  several  fields,  all  of  which 
are  inclosed  by  high  walls,  covered  with  thorny  shrubs. 

"  When,  after  many  detours  and  much  break-neck  climb 
ing,  the  Solitary  was  about  to  pass  the  last  of  these  walls, 
he  imagined  that  he  saw  on  the  other  side  a  row  of  crouch 
ing  sailors.  If  this  were  no  optical  delusion,  it  would  not 
have  surprised  him  in  the  least,  since  it  had  been  reported 
to  him  on  Caprera,  that  several  seamen  and  soldiers  had 
hmcled  on  the  island  in  the  course  of  the  day.  The  loss 
of  time,  which  this  circumstance  occasioned  to  the  Solitary 
explained  also  to  him,  why  two  of  his  friends,  whom  he 
should  have  found  near  the  channel,  were  not  at  their 
posts. 

"  It  was  not  until  ten  o'clock,  and  after  he  had  looked 
very  sharply  about  him,  that  the  Solitary  undertook  to  cross 
the  shallow  arm  of  the  sea  which  divides  Giardinelli  from 
Maddalena.  He  had  not  taken  ten  steps  when  loud  calls 
from  the  watching  war-vessels,  accompanied  with  musket- 
shots,  were  heard  —  but  this  did  not  disconcert  the  Solitary 
in  his  zealous  passage  through  the  salt  flood.  He  soon  had 
the  critical  passage  behind  him,  and  set  foot  upon  Madda 
lena.  But  a  very  fatiguing  way  was  still  before  him,  for 
his  boots,  filled  with  water,  creaked  and  incommoded  him 
on  the  uneven  ground. 

"When,  finally,  the  sight  of  the  house  of  Mrs.  C. 
showed  the  Solitary  the  vicinity  of  a  hospitable  refuge,  he 
strode  more  cautiously  forward,  through  fear  that  the  villa 
might  be  surrounded  by  spies ;  and  only  when  a  cloud 
covered  the  moon,  did  he  dare  to  knock  lightly  upon  one 
of  the  windows  with  his  Scotch  stick.  Mrs.  C.,  however, 
had  had  faith  in  the  Solitary's  lucky  star.  Advised  in  ad 
vance  of  his  plan,  she  had  been  keenly  listening  to  his  foot 
steps,  so  that  at  the  first  tap  on  the  window,  she  hurried 


444  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

from  the  door,  and  welcomed  her  old  neighbor  with  her 
accustomed  gracious  smile." 

All  the  next  day  Garibaldi  remained  concealed  in  the 
English  lady's  cottage.  The  following  night  he  crossed 
from  the  northern  shore  of  Maddalena  to  Sardinia,  where 
his  friends  had  a  sloop  in  readiness.  In  three  or  four  days 
more  he  was  in  Tuscany,  and  the  Italian  Government  was 
astounded  at  his  appearance  in  Florence  before  his  escape 
from  Caprera  had  been  discovered  by  the  blockading 
squadron. 

While  upon  the  rocky  summits  of  Muddalena,  we  made 
search  for  the  former  dwellings  of  the  inhabitants,  but  be 
came  bewildered  in  the  granite  labyrinth,  and  faifed  to  find 
them.  The  present  village  on  the  shore  owes  its  existence 
to  Nelson.  Previous  to  his  day  those  waters  were  swept  by 
Barbary  corsairs,  and  the  people  of  the  island,  being  with 
out  protection,  lived  almost  like  troglodytes,  in  rude  hovels 
constructed  among  the  rocks.  Nelson,  while  in  the  Med 
iterranean,  at  the  end  of  the  last  century,  made  Maddalena 
one  of  his  stations,  and  encouraged  the  inhabitants  to  come 
forth  from  their  hiding-places.  On  the  altar  of  the  church 
in  the  town  which  they  then  began  to  build  there  are  still 
the  silver  candlesticks  which  he  presented.  This,  and 
Napoleon's  previous  attempt  to  gain  possession  of  the 
island,  are  the  two  incidents  which  connect  Maddalena 
with  history. 

We  made  a  few  other  scrambles  during  our  stay,  but  they 
simply  repeated  the  barren  pictures  we  already  knew  by 
heart.  Although,  little  by  little,  an  interest  in  the  island 
was  awakened,  the  day  which  was  to  bring  the  steamer  from 
Porto  Torres  was  hailed  by  us  almost  as  a  festival.  But 
the  comedy  (for  such  it  began  to  seem)  was  not  yet  at  an 
end.  1  had  procured  the  return  tickets  to  Leghorn,  and 
was  standing  in  Remigia's  door,  watching  tne  pensioners  as 
they  dozed  in  the  shade,  when  two  figures  appeared  at  the 
end  of  the  little  street.  One  was  Painted-Eyes,  the  maker 


THE   ISLAND   OF   M  ADD  ALEX  A.  41.) 

of  salves,  and  I  was  edified  by  seeing  him  suddenly  turn 
when  he  perceived  me,  and  retrace  his  steps.  The  other, 
who  came  forward,  proved  to  be  one  of  Garibaldi's  stanch- 
est  veterans,  —  a  man  who  had  been  in  his  service  twenty- 
five  years,  in  Montevideo,  Rome,  America,  China,  and 
finally  in  the  Tyrol. 

"  Where  is  the  man  who  was  with  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  He  was  coming  to  the  locanda,"  said  he  ;  "  but  when 
he  saw  you,  he  left  me  without  explaining  why." 

The  veteran  knew  so  much  of  what  had  happened  that 
I  told  him  the  rest.  He  was  no  less  grieved  than  sur 
prised.  His  general,  he  said,  had  never  acted  so  before  ; 
he  had  never  refused  to  see  any  stranger,  even  though  he 
came  without  letters,  and  he  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it. 

There  was  a  stir  among  the  idlers  on  the  quay  ;  a  thread 
of  smoke  arose  above  the  rocky  point  to  the  westward,  and 
—  welcome  sight !  —  the  steamer  swept  up  and  anchored 
in  the  roadstead.  La  Remigia,  who  had  been  unremitting 
in  her  attentions,  presented  a  modest  bill,  shook  hands 
with  us  heartily,  and  Red-head,  who  was  in  waiting  with 
his  boat,  carried  us  speedily  on  board.  The  steamer  was 
not  to  leave  for  two  hours  more,  but  now  the  certainty  of 
escape  was  a  consolation.  The  few  islanders  we  had 
known  parted  from  us  like  friends,  and  even  the  boatman 
returned  to  the  deck  on  purpose  to  shake  hands,  and  wish 
us  a  pleasant  voyage.  I  found  myself  softening  towards 
Maddalena,  after  all. 

In  one  of  the  last  boats  came  the  same  Occhipinti  again, 
accompanied  by  Guzmaroli,  the  ex-priest.  The  former 
was  bound  for  Leghorn,  and  the  prospect  of  having  him 
for  a  fellow-passenger  was  not  agreeable.  He  avoided 
meeting  us,  went  below,  and  kept  very  quiet  during  the 
passage.  I  felt  sure,  although  the  supposition  was  dispar 
aging0  to  Garibaldi,  that  this  man  was  partly  responsible 
for  the  answer  I  had  received. 


446  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

A  fresh  breeze  blew  through  the  Strait  of  Bonifacio,  and 
we  soon  lost  sight  of  the  rocks  which  had  been  the  scene 
of  our  three  days'  Robinsoniad.  The  only  other  passen 
ger,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  proved  to  be  "  the  Hermit- 
ess  of  La  Moneta,"  as  she  is  called  on  Maddalena,  —  the 
widow  of  the  gentleman  who  sold  Caprera  to  Garibaldi, 
and  herself  one  of  the  General's  most  trusted  friends. 
Through  her,  the  island  acquired  a  new  interest.  In  the 
outmost  house  on  the  spur  which  forms  the  harbor  lay  an 
English  captain,  eighty  years  old,  and  ill;  in  the  sterile  glen 
to  the  north  lived  another  Englishman  alone  among  his 
books  and  rare  pictures ;  and  under  a  great  rock,  two  miles 
to  the  eastward,  was  a  lonely  cottage,  opposite  Caprera, 
where  this  lady  has  lived  for  thirty  years. 

In  the  long  twilight,  as  the  coast  of  Corsica  sped  by,  we 
heard  the  story  of  those  thirty  years.  They  had  not  dulled 
the  keen,  clear  intellect  of  the  lady,  nor  made  less  warm 
one  human  feeling  in  her  large  heart.  We  heard  of  trav 
els  in  Corsica  on  horseback  nearly  forty  years  ago  ;  of 
lunching  with  bandits  in  the  mountains  ;  of  fording  the 
floods  and  sleeping  in  the  caves  of  Sardinia  ;  of  farm-life 
(if  it  can  be  so  called)  on  Caprera,  and  of  twenty  years 
passed  in  the  cottage  of  La  Moneta,  without  even  a  jour 
ney  to  the  fishing-village.  Then  came  other  confidences, 
which  must  not  be  repeated,  but  as  romantic  as  anything 
in  the  stories  of  the  Middle  Ages  —  yet  in  all,  there  was 
no  trace  of  morbid  feeling,  of  unused  affection,  of  regret 
for  the  years  that  seemed  lost  to  us.  Verily,  though  these 
words  should  reach  her  eyes,  I  must  say,  since  the  chances 
of  life  will  scarcely  bring  us  together  again,  that  the  fresh 
ness  and  sweetness  with  which  she  had  preserved  so  many 
noble  womanly  qualities  in  solitude,  was  to  me  a  cheering 
revelation  of  the  innate  excellence  of  human  nature. 

"  Yet,"  she  said,  at  the  close,  "  I  would  never  advise  any 
one  to  attempt  the  life  I  have  led.  Such  a  seclusion  is 
neither  natural  nor  healthy.  One  may  read,  and  one  may 


THE   ISLAND   OF   MADDALKXA.  447 

think ;  but  the  knowledge  lies  in  one's  mind  like  an  inert 
mass,  and  only  becomes  vital  when  it  is  actively  communi 
cated  or  compared.  This  mental  inertness  or  dcadness  is 
even  harder  to  bear  than  the  absence  of  society.  But 
there  always  comes  a  time  when  we  need  the  face  of  a 
friend  —  the  time  that  comes  to  all.  No,  it  is  not  good  to 
be  alone." 

After  all,  we  had  not  come  to  Maddalena  in  vain.  We 
had  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  rare  and  estimable  nature 
—  which  is  always  a  lasting  gain,  in  the  renewed  faith  it 
awakens.  The  journey,  which  had  seemed  so  wearisome 
in  anticipation,  came  rapidly  to  an  end,  and  there  was 
scarcely  a  regret  left  for  Caprera  when  we  parted  with  the 
Hermitess  of  Maddalena  at  Leghorn,  the  next  afternoon. 
A  few  days  afterwards  she  sent  me  the  original  manuscript 
of  Garibaldi's  "  Hymn  to  the  Romans,"  which  he  had  pre 
sented  to  her.  I  shall  value  it  as  much  for  the  giver's,  as 
for  the  writer's  sake. 

Our  friends  in  Florence  received  the  news  of  our  adven 
ture  with  astonishment  and  mortification  ;  but,  up  to  the 
time  of  this  present  writing,  the  matter  remains  a  mystery. 
One  conjecture  was  made,  yet  it  seemed  scarcely  credible, 
—  that  Garibaldi  was  getting  up  a  new  expedition  against 
Rome. 

A  short  time  after  my  trip  to  Maddalena,  a  German 
professor  of  note,  who  had  a  special  interest  in  communi 
cating  personally  with  Garibaldi,  made  the  journey  from 
Germany  for  that  sole  purpose,  and  was  similarly  repelled. 


IN  THE   TEUTOBURGER   FOREST. 


No  part  of  Germany  is  so  monotonous  and  unlovely  as 
that  plain  which  the  receding  waves  of  the  North  Sea  left 
behind  them.  The  stranger  who  lands  at  Bremen  or 
Hamburg  enters  upon  a  dead,  sandy  level,  where  fields  of 
Jean  and  starveling  cereals  interchange  with  heathery  moor 
lands  and  woods  of  dwarfish  pine.  Each  squat,  ugly  farm 
house  looks  as  lonely  as  if  there  were  no  others  in  sight ; 
the  villages  are  collections  of  similar  houses,  huddled 
around  a  church-tower  so  thick  and  massive  that  it  seems 
to  be  the  lookout  of  a  fortress.  The  patient  industry  of 
the  people  is  here  manifested  in  its  plainest  arid  sturdiest 
forms,  and  one  cannot  look  for  the  external  embellish 
ments  of  life,  where  life  itself  is  so  much  of  an  achieve 
ment. 

As  we  advance  southward  the  scenery  slowly  improves. 
The  soil  deepens  and  the  trees  rise ;  the  purple  heather 
clings  only  to  the  occasional  sandy  ridges,  between  which 
greenest  meadows  gladden  our  eyes.  Groves  of  oak  make 
their  appearance  ;  brooks  wind  and  sparkle  among  alder 
thickets ;  the  low  undulations  swell  into  broad,  gently 
rounded  hills,  and  at  last  there  is  a  wavy  blue  line  along 
the  horizon.  If  you  are  travelling  from  Hanover  to  Min- 
den,  some  one  will  point  out  a  notch,  or  gap,  in  that  rising 
mountain  outline,  and  tell  you  that  it  is  the  Porta  West- 
phalica  —  the  gateway  by  which  the  river  Weser  issues 
from  the  Teutoburger  Forest. 

I  had  already  explored  nearly  every  nook  of  Middle 
Germany,  from  the  Hartz  to  the  Odenwald  ;  yet  this  —  the 
storied  ground  of  the  race  —  was  still  an  unknown  region. 
Although  so  accessible,  especially  from  the  celebrated 


452  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

watering-place  of  Pyrmont,  whence  any  of  its  many  points 
of  interest  may  be  reached  in  a  day's  drive,  I  found  little 
about  it  in  the  guide-books,  and  less  in  books  of  travel. 
Yet  here,  one  may  say,  is  the  starting-point  of  German 
history.  Hermann  and  Wittekind  are  the  two  great  rep 
resentatives  of  the  race,  in  its  struggles  against  Roman 
and  Christian  civilization ;  and  the  fact  that  it  adopted  both 
the  one  and  the  other,  and  through  them  developed  into 
its  later  eminence,  does  not  lessen  the  value  of  those 
names.  Indeed,  the  power  of  resistance  measures  the 
power  of  acceptance  and  assimilation. 

It  was  harvest-time  as  I  sped  by  rail  towards  Minden, 
along  the  northern  base  of  the  mountains.  Weeks  of 
drought  and  heat  had  forced  the  fields  into  premature  ripe 
ness,  and  the  lush  green  meadows  were  already  waiting 
for  the  aftermath.  About  Biickeburg  the  rye-fields  were 
full  of  reapers,  in  an  almost  extinct  costume,  —  the  men 
in  heavy  fur  caps,  loose  white  over-shirts,  and  boots  reach 
ing  to  the  knee  ;  the  women  with  black  head-dress,  bodice, 
and  bright  scarlet  petticoat.  These  tints  of  white,  scarlet, 
and  black  shone  splendidly  among  the  sheaves,  and  the 
pictures  I  saw  made  me  keenly  regret  that  progress  has 
rendered  mankind  so  commonplace  in  costume.  When  I 
first  tramped  through  Germany,  in  1845,  every  province 
had  its  distinctive  dress,  and  the  stamp  of  the  country 
people  was  impressed  upon  the  landscapes  of  their  homes  ; 
but  now  a  great  leveling  wave  has  swept  over  the  country, 
washing  out  all  these  picturesque  characteristics,  and  leav 
ing  the  universal  modern  commonplace  in  their  stead.  If 
the  latter  were  graceful,  or  cheap,  or  practically  conven 
ient,  we  might  accept  the  change ;  but  it  is  none  of  these. 
Fashion  has  at  last  combined  ugliness  and  discomfort  in 
our  clothing,  and  the  human  race  is  satisfied. 

Soon  after  leaving  Minden  the  road  bends  sharply  south 
wards,  and  enters  the  Porta  Westphalica  —  a  break  in  the 
\Yeser  mountains  which  is  abrupt  and  lofty  enough  to  pos- 


IN   THE   TEUTOBUEGKR   FOREST.  453 

sess  a  ci  rtnin  grandeur.  The  eastern  bank  rises  from  the 
water  in  a  broken,  rocky  wall  to  the  height  of  near  five 
hundred  feet ;  the  western  slants  sufficiently  to  allow  foot 
hold  for  trees,  and  its  summit  is  two  hundred  feet  higher. 
The  latter  is  called  "  Wittekind's  Mount,"  from  a  tradition 
that  the  famous  Saxon  king  once  had  a  fortress  upon  it. 
Somewhere  in  the  valley  which  lies  within  this  Westpha- 
lian  Gate  is  the  scene  of  the  last  battle  between  Hermann 
and  Germanicus.  Although  the  field  of  action  of  both 
these  leaders  extended  over  the  greater  part  of  Northern 
Germany,  the  chief  events  which  decided  their  fortunes 
took  place  within  the  narrow  circle  of  these  mountains. 

I  passed  through  Oeynhausen,  —  a  bright,  cheerful  wa 
tering-place,  named  after  the  enterprising  baron  who  drove 
an  artesian  shaft  to  the  depth  of  two  thousand  feet,  and 
brought  a  rich  saline  stream  to  the  surface,  —  and  at  Her- 
ford,  the  next  station,  left  the  line  of  rail.  I  looked  in 
vain  for  the  towers  of  Enger,  a  league  or  so  to  the  west, 
where  Wittekind  died  as  a  Christian  prince,  and  where  his 
bones  still  rest.  Before  turning  aside  for  Detmold  and  the 
hills  of  the  Teutoburger  Forest,  let  me  very  briefly  recall 
the  career  of  that  spiritual  successor  of  Hermann. 

Nothing  certain  is  known  of  Wittekind's  descent  or  early 
history.  We  first  hear  of  him  as  one  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Saxons  in  the  invasion  of  Westphalia,  which  they  under 
took  in  the  year  774,  while  Charlemagne  was  occupied  in 
subduing  the  Lombards.  Three  years  later,  when  this 
movement  was  suppressed  and  the  greater  part  of  the 
Saxon  chiefs  took  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Emperor  at 
Paderborn,  Wittekind  fled  to  the  court  of  his  brother-in- 
law,  King  Siegfried  of  Jutland.  He  returned  in  778,  while 
Charlemagne  was  in  Spain,  driving  back  the  Saracens, 
and  devastated  the  lands  of  the  Rhine.  After  carrying  on 
the  war  with  varying  success  for  four  years,  he  finally  sur 
prised  and  almost  annihilated  the  Frank  army  at  the  Siin- 
telberg,  not  far  from  Hameln,  on  the  Weser.  Enraged  at 


451  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

his  defeat,  Charlemagne  took  a  horrible  revenge :  he  exe 
cuted  forty-five  hundred  Saxons,  who  were  in  his  hands. 
All  the  tribes  rose  in  revolt,  acknowledged  Wittekind  as 
their  king,  and  for  three  years  more  continued  the  desper 
ate  struggle,  the  end  of  which  was  a  compromise.  Witte 
kind  received  Christian  baptism,  was  made  duke  of  Saxony, 
and,  according  to  tradition,  governed  the  people  twenty 
years  longer,  from  his  seat  at  Enger,  as  a  just  and  humane 
prince.  The  Emperor  Karl  IV.  there  built  him  a  monu 
ment  in  the  year  1377. 

At  Herford  I  took  my  place  in  the  diligence  for  Det- 
mold,  with  a  horse-dealer  for  company  on  the  way.  It  was 
a  journey  of  three  hours,  through  a  very  pleasant  and 
beautiful  country,  lying  broad  and  warm  in  the  shelter 
of  circling  mountains,  veined  with  clear,  many-branched 
streams,  and  wooded  with  scattered  groves  of  oak  and 
beech.  If  there  was  any  prominent  feature  of  the  scenery, 
as  distinguished  from  that  of  other  parts  of  Germany,  it 
was  these  groves,  dividing  the  bright  meadows  and  the  gol 
den  slopes  of  harvest,  with  their  dark,  rounded  masses  of 
foliage,  as  in  the  midland  landscapes  of  England.  The 
hills  to  the  south,  entirely  clothed  with  forests,  increased 
in  height  as  we  followed  their  course  in  a  parallel  line,  and 
long  before  we  reached  Detmold  I  saw  the  monument  to 
Hermann,  crowning  the  Grotenburg,  a  summit  more  than 
a  thousand  feet  above  the  valley. 

The  little  capital  was  holding  its  annual  horse-fair,  yet  I 
had  no  trouble  in  finding  lodgings  at  one  of  its  three  inns, 
and  should  have  thought  the  streets  deserted  if  I  had  not 
been  told  that  they  were  unusually  lively.  The  princi 
pality  of  Lippe  has  a  population  of  a  little  more  than  a 
hundred  thousand,  yet  none  of  the  appurtenances  of  a 
court  and  state  are  wanting.  There  is  an  old  ancestral 
castle,  a  modern  palace,  a  theatre,  barracks  and  govern 
ment  buildings  —  not  so  large  as  in  Berlin,  to  be  sure, 
but  just  as  important  in  the  eyes  of  the  people.  A  stream 


IN   THE   TEUTOBURGER   FOREST.  455 

which  comes  down  from  the  mountains  feeds  a  broad,  still 
moat,  encompassing  three  sides  of  the  old  castle  and  park, 
beyond  which  the  fairest  meadows  stretch  away  to  the  set 
ting  sun.  Ducks  and  geese  on  the  water,  children  pad 
dling  in  the  shallows,  cows  coming  home  from  the  pastures, 
and  men  and  women  carrying  hay  or  vegetables,  suggested 
a  quiet  country  village  rather  than  a  stately  residenz  ;  but 
I  was  very  careful  not  to  say  so  to  any  Detmolder.  The 
repose  and  seclusion  of  the  place  took  hold  of  my  fancy : 
I  walked  back  and  forth,  through  the  same  streets  and  lin 
den-shaded  avenues  in  the  long  summer  evening,  finding 
idyls  at  every  turn ;  but  alas !  they  floated  formlessly  by 
and  faded  in  the  sunset. 

Detmold  is  the  birthplace  of  the  poet  Freiligrath,  and  I 
went  into  the  two  bookstores  to  see  if  they  kept  his  poems 
—  which  they  did  not.  Fifty  years  hence,  perhaps,  they 
will  have  a  statue  of  him.  As  I  sat  in  my  lonely  room  at 
the  inn,  waiting  for  bedtime,  my  thoughts  went  back  to 
that  morning  by  the  lake  of  Zurich,  when  I  first  met  the 
banished  poet ;  to  pleasant  evenings  at  his  house  in  Uack- 
ney  ;  and  to  the  triumphant  reception  which,  at  Cologne,  a 
few  days  before,  had  welcomed  him  back  to  Germany. 
This  was  the  end  of  twenty-three  years  of  exile,  the  be 
ginning  of  which  I  remembered.  Noble,  unselfish,  and 
consistent  as  his  political  course  had  been,  had  he  followed 
it  to  his  detriment  as  a  poet,  or  had  he  bridged  the  gulf 
which  separates  the  Muses  from  party  conflicts  ?  That  was 
the  question,  and  it  was  not  so  easy  to  resolve.  Poesy  will 
cheer  as  a  friend,  but  she  will  not  serve.  She  will  not  be 
driven  from  that  broad  field  of  humanity,  wherein  the  noise 
of  parties  is  swallowed  up,  and  the  colors  of  their  banners 
are  scarcely  to  be  distinguished.  Freiligrath  has  written 
the  best  political  poems  in  the  German  language,  and  his 
life  has  been  the  brilliant  illustration  of  his  principles ;  yet 
I  doubt  whether  "  The  Dead  to  the  Living "  will  outlive 
the  "  Lion-Ride." 


456  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

I  picked  up,  however,  a  description  of  the  Teutoburger 
Forest,  written  by  the  Cantor  Sauerlander  of  Detmold  — 
a  little  book  which  no  one  but  a  full-blooded  Teuton  could 
have  written.  Fatiguingly  minute,  conscientious  to  the  last 
degree,  overflowing  with  love  for  the  subject,  exhaustive 
on  all  points,  whether  important  or  not,  the  style  —  or, 
rather,  utter  lack  of  style  —  so  placed  the  unsuspecting  au 
thor  before  the  reader's  mind,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
mistake  him,  —  a  mild,  industrious,  harmless  egotist,  who 
talks  on  and  on,  and  never  once  heeds  whether  you  are 
listening  to  his  chatter. 

C5 

I  took  him  with  me,  but  engaged,  in  addition,  a  young 
gardener  of  the  town,  and  we  set  out  in  the  bright,  hot 
morning.  My  plan  for  the  day  embraced  the  monument 
to  Hermann  on  the  Grotenburg,  the  conjectured  field  of 
the  defeat  of  Yarns,  and  the  celebrated  Extern  Rocks. 
Cool  paths  through  groves  of  oak  led  from  the  town  to  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  having  reached  which  I  took  out  the 
Cantor,  and  read :  "  From  this  point  to  the  near  forest  the 
foot-path  mounts  by  a  very  palpable  grade,  wherefore  the 
wanderer  will  find  himself  somewhat  fatigued,  besides  suf 
fering  (frequently)  from  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun, 
against  which,  however,  it  is  possible  to  screen  one's  self 
by  an  umbrella,  for  which  reason  I  would  venture  to  sug 
gest  a  moderate  gait,  and  observant  pauses  at  various 
points  !  "  Verily,  if  his  book  had  been  specially  prepared 
for  the  reigning  prince,  Paul  Friedrich  Emil  Leopold,  he 
could  not  have  been  more  considerate. 

The  fatiguing  passage,  nevertheless,  was  surmounted  in 
ten  minutes,  and  thenceforth  we  were  in  the  shade  of  the 
forest.  At  about  two  thirds  of  the  height  the  path  came 
upon  a  Hunenring,  or  Druid  circle,  one  of  the  largest  in  Ger 
many.  It  is  nearly  five  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  with 
openings  on  the  north  and  south,  and  the  walls  of  rough 
stones  are  in  some  places  twenty  feet  high.  Large  trees 
are  growing  upon  them.  There  was  another  and  greater 


IN   THE    TEUTOBURGER    FOREST.  4~>7 

ring  around  the  crest  of  the  mountain,  but  it  has  been 
thrown  down  and  almost  obliterated.  German  antiquari 
ans  consider  these  remains  as  a  sufficient  evidence  to  prove 
that  this  is  the  genuine  Teutolurg,  —  the  fortress  of  Tent, 
or  Tuisco,  the  chief  personage  of  the  original  Teutonic 
mythology.  They  also  derive  the  name  of  Detmold  from 
"  Theotnmlle,"  the  place  of  Tent.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
as  to  the  character  of  the  circles,  or  their  great  antiquity  ; 
and,  moreover,  to  locate  the  Teutoburg  here  explains  the 
desperate  resistance  of  the  tribes  of  this  region  both  to 
Rome  and  to  Charlemagne. 

Near  the  summit  I  found  some  traces  of  the  greater 
circle,  many  of  the  stones  of  which  were  used,  very  appro 
priately,  for  the  foundation  of  the  monument  to  Hermann. 
This  structure  stands  in  an  open,  grassy  space,  inclosed 
by  a  young  growth  of  fir-trees.  It  is  still  incomplete  ;  but 
we,  who  long  ago  stopped  work  on  the  colossal  Washing 
ton  obelisk,  have  no  right  to  reproach  the  German  people. 
Thirty  years  ago  the  Bavarian  sculptor  Yon  Bandel  exhib 
ited  the  design  of  a  statue  to  Hermann.  The  idea  ap 
pealed  to  that  longing  for  German  unity  the  realization  of 
which  seemed  then  so  far  distant ;  societies  were  formed, 
collections  made,  fairs  held  for  the  object,  and  the  temple- 
shaped  pedestal,  commenced  in  1841,  was  finished  in 
1846,  at  a  cost  of  forty  thousand  thalers.  The  colossal 
statue  which  should  crown  it  demanded  an  equal  sum  — 
two  thirds  of  which,  I  am  told,  has  been  contributed. 
Parts  of  the  figure  have  been  already  cast,  and  the 
sculptor,  now  nearly  seventy  years  old,  still  hopes  to  see 
the  dream  of  his  life  fulfilled.  But  the  impression  has 
gone  abroad  that  the  strength  of  the  winds,  sweeping  un 
checked  from  the  Rhine  and  from  Norway  across  the 
Northern  Sea,  is  so  great  upon  this  Teutoburger  height, 
that  the  statue  would  probably  be  thrown  down,  if  erected. 
A  committee  of  architects  and  engineers  has  declared  that, 
with  proper  anchorage,  the  figure,  will  stand  ;  yet  the  con 
tributions  have  ceased. 


458  BY-WAYS   OF  EUEOPE. 

The  design  of  the  temple-base  is  very  simple  and  mas 
sive.  On  a  circular  foundation,  sixty  feet  in  diameter  by 
eleven  in  height,  stands  a  structure  composed  of  ten  clus 
tered  pillars,  connected  by  pointed  arches,  the  outer  spans 
of  which  are  cut  to  represent  stems  of  oak,  while  heavy 
garlands  of  oak-leaves  are  set  in  the  triangular  interspaces. 
The  first  rude  beginning  of  Gothic  art  is  here  suggested, 
not  as  a  growth  from  the  Byzantine  and  Saracenic  schools, 
but  as  an  autochthonous  product.  Over  the  cornice,  which  is 
fifty  feet  above  the  base,  rises  a  solid  hemisphere  of  ma 
sonry,  terminating  in  a  ring  twenty-five  feet  in  diameter, 
which  is  to  receive  the  metal  base  of  the  colossus.  The 
latter  will  be  ninety  feet  in  height  to  the  point  of  the 
sword,  making  the  entire  height  of  the  monument  a  hun 
dred  and  eighty-two  feet. 

I  mounted  to  the  summit,  and  looked  over  the  tops  of 
the  forest  upon  a  broad  and  beautiful  panoramic  ring  of 
landscape.  The  well-wooded  mountains  of  the  region 
divided  the  rich  valleys  and  harvest  lands  which  they 
inclosed.  On  all  sides  except  the  west  they  melted  away 
in  the  summer  haze;  there,  they  sank  into  the  tawny 
Westphalian  plain,  once  the  land  of  marshes,  traversed 
by  the  legions  of  Varus.  While  yonder,  beyond  the  ring 
of  the  forest  sacred  to  Teut,  the  fields  were  withering 
and  the  crops  wasting  in  the  sun,  here  they  gave  their 
fullest  bounty ;  here  the  streams  were  full,  the  meadows 
green,  and  the  land  laughed  with  its  abundance.  From 
this  point  I  overlooked  all  the  great  battle-fields  of  Her 
mann  and  Wittekind.  The  mountains  do  not  constitute,  as 
I  had  supposed,  a  natural  stronghold ;  but  in  their  heart 
lies  the  warmest  and  most  fertile  region  of  Northern  Ger 
many. 

In  the  neighboring  hostelry  there  is  a  plaster  model  of 
the  waiting  statue.  Hermann,  with  the  winged  helmet 
upon  his  head,  and  clad  in  a  close  leathern  coat  reaching 
nearly  to  the  knee,  is  represented  as  addressing  his  war- 


IN   THE   TEUTOBURGER   FOREST.  4,">9 

riors.  The  action  of  the  uplifted  arm  is  good,  but  the 'left 
hand  rests  rather  idly  upon  the  shield,  instead  of  uncon 
sciously  repeating  in  the  grip  of  the  fingers  the  energy  of 
the  rest  of  the  figure.  The  face  —  ideal,  of  course  —  is 
quite  as  much  Roman  as  Teuton,  the  nose  being  aquiline, 
the  eyebrows  straight,  and  the  lips  very  clearly  and  regu 
larly  cut.  To  me  the  physiognomy  would  indicate  dark  hair 
and  beard.  I  found  the  body  somewhat  heavy  and  un 
graceful  ;  but  as  it  was  to  be  seen  from  below,  and  in  very 
different  dimensions,  the  effect  may  be  all  that  is  de 
signed. 

In  the  Hall  of  Busts  in  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol,  in 
Rome,  there  is  a  head  which  has  recently  attracted  the 
interest  of  German  archasologists.  It  stands  alone  among 
the  severe  Roman  and  the  exquisitely  balanced  Grecian 
heads,  like  a  genial  phenomenon  of  character  totally  distinct 
from  theirs.  When  I  stood  before  it,  a  little  puzzled,  and 
wondering  at  the  absurd  label  of  "  CECROPS  ?  "  affixed  to 
the  pedestal,  I  had  not  learned  the  grounds  for  conjectur 
ing  that  it  may  be  a  portrait  of  him  whom  Tacitus  calls 
Arminius ;  yet  I  felt  that  here  was  a  hero,  of  whom  history 
must  have  some  knowledge.  It  is  certainly  a  blonde  head, 
with  abundant  locks,  a  beard  sprouting  thinly  and  later  than 
in  the  South,  strong  cheek-bones,  a  nose  straight  but  not 
Grecian,  and  lips  which  somehow  express  good  fellowship, 
vanity,  and  the  habit  of  command.  The  sculptor  Bandel 
made  a  great  mistake  in  not  boldly  accepting  the  conjec 
ture  as  fact,  and  giving  Hermann  this  head.  Dr.  Emil 
Braun  considers  that  it  is  undoubtedly  a  bust  of  one  of 
the  young  German  chiefs  who  were  educated  at  the  court 
of  Augustus ;  and  he  adds,  very  truly,  "  If  this  can  be 
proven,  it  will  be  of  great  importance  as  a  testimony  of 
the  intellectual  development  of  the  German  race,  even  in 
those  early  times." 

Hermann,  who  was  born  in  the  year  16  B.  c.,  must  have 
gone  to  Rome  as  a  boy,  during  the  campaigns  of  Drusus 


460  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

and  Tiberius  in  Northern  Germany.  He  became  not  only 
a  citizen,  but  a  Roman  knight,  was  intrusted  with  the  com 
mand  of  a  German  legion,  and  fought  in  Pannonia.  He 
acquired  the  Latin  tongue,  and  acquainted  himself  with 
the  military  and  civil  science  of  the  Romans.  Had  the 
wise  and  cautious  policy  of  Tiberius  been  followed,  he 
might  have  died  as  a  Consul  of  the  Empire  ;  but  the 
brutal  rule  of  Varus  provoked  the  tribes  to  resistance,  and 
Hermann  became  a  German  again.  He  turned  against 
Rome  the  tactics  he  had  learned  in  her  service,  enticed 
Varus  away  from  the  fortified  line  of  the  Rhine,  across  the 
marshes  of  the  Lippe,  and  on  the  southern  slope  of  the 
Teutoburger  Forest,  in  a  three  days'  battle  fought  amid 
the  autumn  storms,  annihilated  the  Roman  army  of  fifty 
thousand  men.  Well  might  the  Imperial  city  tremble,  and 
the  old  Augustus  cry  out  to  the  shade  of  the  slain  com 
mander,  "  Varus,  Varus,  give  me  back  my  legions !  " 

For  five  years  the  sovereignty  of  Hermann  and  the  in 
dependence  of  his  people  were  not  disturbed.  But  after 
the  death  of  Augustus,  in  the  year  14  A.  D.,  Germanicus 
determined  to  restore  the  prestige  of  the  Roman  arms. 
In  the  mean  time  Hermann  had  married  Thusnelda, 
daughter  of  Segestus,  another  chief  of  the  Cheruski,  who 
had  reclaimed  her  by  force  in  consequence  of  a  quarrel, 
and  was  then  besieged  by  his  son-in-law.  Segestus  called 
the  Romans  to  his  aid,  and  delivered  Thusnelda  into  their 
hands  to  grace,  two  years  later,  the  triumph  decreed  to 
Germanicus.  Hermann,  infuriated  by  the  loss  of  a  wife 
whom  he  loved,  summoned  the  tribes  to  war,  and  the 
Roman  commander  collected  an  army  of  eighty  thousand 
men.  The  latter  succeeded  in  burying  the  bones  of  Varus 
and  his  legions,  and  was  then  driven  back  with  great  loss. 
Returning  in  the  year  16  with  a  still  larger  army,  he  met 
the  undaunted  Hermann  on  the  Weser,  near  Hameln. 
The  terrible  battle  fought  there,  and  a  second  near  the 
Porta  Westphalica,  were  claimed  as  victories  by  the 


IN   THE   TEUTOBURGER   FOREST.  Ml 

Romans,  yet  were  followed  by  a  retreat  to"  the  forti.s  (S 
on  the  Rhine.  Gerinanicus  was  preparing  a  third  cam 
paign  when  he  was  recalled  by  the  jealous  Tiberius.  The 
Romans  never  again  penetrated  into  this  part  of  Germany. 

Hermann  might  have  founded  a  nation  but  for  the  fierce 
jealousy  of  the  other  chieftains  of  his  race,  lie  was  vic 
torious  in  the  civil  wars  which  ensued,  but  was  waylaid  and 
murdered  by  members  of  his  own  family  in  the  year  •>  1 . 
His  short  life  of  thirty-seven  years  is  an  unbroken  story 
of  heroism.  Even  Tacitus,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for 
these  particulars,  says  of  him  :  "  He  was  undoubtedly  tin; 
liberator  of  Germany,  having  dared  to  grapple  with  the 
Roman  power,  not  in  its  beginnings,  like  other  kings  and 
commanders,  but  in  the  maturity  of  its  strength.  He  was 
not  always  victorious  in  battle,  but  in  war  lie  was  never 
subdued.  He  still  lives  in  the  songs  of  the  Barbarians, 
unknown  to  the  annals  of  the  Greeks,  who  only  admire 
that  which  belongs  to  themselves  —  nor  celebrated  as  he 
deserves  by  the  Romans,  who,  in  praising  the  olden  limes, 
neglect  the  events  of  the  later  years." 

Leaving  the  monument,  my  path  followed  the  crest  of 
the  mountain  for  two  or  three  miles,  under  a  continuous  r«  cf 
of  beech.  Between  the  smooth,  clean  boles  I  looked  down 
upon  the  hot  and  shining  valley,  where  the  leaves  hung 
motionless  on  the  trees,  but  up  on  the  shaded  ridge  of  the 
hills  there  was  a  steady,  grateful  breeze.  The  gardener 
was  not  a  very  skillful  guide,  and  only  brought  me  to  the 
Winnefeld  (Winfield)  after  a  roundabout  ramble.  I  found 
myself  at  the  head  of  a  long,  bare  slope,  falling  to  the 
southwest,  where  it  terminated  in  three  dells,  divided  by 
spurs  of  the  range.  The  town  of  Lippspringe,  in  the  dis 
tance,  marked  the  site  of  the  fountains  mentioned  by  Taci- 
itus.  The  Winnefeld  lies  on  the  course  which  an  army 
would  take,  marching  from  those  springs  to  assault  the 
Teutoburg,  and  the  three  dells,  wooded  then  as  new,  would 
offer  rare  chances  of  ambuscade  and  attack.  There  is  no 


462  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

difficulty  in  here  locating  the  defeat  of  Yarns.  That  the 
Teuton  victory  was  not  solely  the  result  of  Hermann's 
military  skill  is  proven  by  the  desperate  bravery  with 
which  his  warriors  confronted  the  legions  of  Germanicus 
five  years  later. 

Standing  upon  this  famous  battle-field,  one  cannot  but 
recall  the  subsequent  relations  of  Germany  and  Rome, 
which  not  only  determined  the  history  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
but  set  in  action  many  of  the  forces  which  shape  the  pres 
ent  life  of  the  world.  The  seat  of  power  was  transplanted, 
it  was  exercised  by  another  race,  but  its  elements  were  not 
changed.  Hermann,  a  knight  of  Rome,  learned  in  her 
service  how  to  resist  her,  and  it  was  still  the  Roman  mind 
which  governed  Italy  while  she  was  a  defiant  dependency 
of  the  German  Empire.  Charlemagne  took  up  the  un 
completed  work  of  Germanicus,  and  was  the  true  avenger 
of  Varus  after  nearly  eight  hundred  years.  The  career  of 
Hermann,  though  so  splendidly  heroic,  does  not  mark  the 
beginning  of  Germany ;  the  race  only  began  to  develop 
after  its  complete  subjection  to  the  laws  and  arts  and  ideas 
of  Rome.  Thus  the  marvelous  Empire  triumphed  at 
last. 

I  descended  the  bare  and  burning  slopes  of  the  moun 
tain  into  a  little  valley,  plunged  into  a  steep  forest  beyond, 
and,  after  plodding  wearily  for  an  hour  or  more,  found  my 
self,  as  nearly  as  I  could  guess,  on  the  banks  of  a  brook 
that  descends  to  the  town  of  Horn.  The  gardener  seemed 
at  fault,  yet  insisted  on  leading  me  contrary  to  my  instinct 
of  the  proper  course.  We  had  not  gone  far,  however, 
when  a  mass  of  rock,  rising  like  a  square  tower  above  the 
wooded  ridge  to  the  eastward,  signaled  our  destination  ; 
and  my  discomfited  guide  turned  about  silently,  and  made 
towards  it,  I  following,  through  thickets  and  across  swamps, 
until  we  reached  the  highway. 

The  Extern  Rocks  (Extcrnsteinc)  have  a  double  interest 
for  the  traveller.  They  consist  of  five  detached  masses 


IN    THE   TEUTOBURGElt    FOREST.  4G3 

of  gray  sandstone,  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  in 
height,  irregularly  square  in  form,  and  with  diameters 
varying  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet.  They  are  planted  on  a 
grassy  slope,  across  the  mouth  of  a  glen  opening  from  the 
mountains.  Only  a  few  tough  shrubs  hang  from  the  crev 
ices  in  their  sides,  but  the  birch-trees  on  the  summits  shoot 
high  into  the  air  and  print  their  sprinkled  ieaves  on  the 
sky.  The  hills  of  the  Teutoburger  Forest  are  rounded  and 
cliffless,  and  the  same  formation,  it  is  said,  does  not  reap 
pear  elsewhere. 

In  the  base  of  the  most  northern  of  these  rocks  a  chapel, 
thirty-six  feet  long,  has  been  hewn  —  but  when,  or  by 
whom,  are  matters  of  conjecture.  Some  very  imaginative 
antiquaries  insist  that  the  Romans  captured  by  Hermann 
were  here  sacrificed  to  the  pagan  gods;  others  find  evi 
dence  that  the  place  was- once  dedicated  to  the  worship  of 
Mithras  (the  sun)  ;  but  the  work  must  probably  be  ascribed 
to  the  early  Teutonic  Christians.  The  rocks  are  first  men 
tioned  in  a  document  of  the  year  1093.  On  the  outer  wall 
of  the  chapel  there  is  a  tablet  of  sculpture,  in  high  relief, 
sixteen  feet  by  twelve,  which  is  undoubtedly  the  earliest 
work  of  the  kind  in  Germany.  Its  Byzantine  character  is 
not  to  be  mistaken,  and.  judging  by  the  early  Christian 
sculptures  and  mosaics  in  Italy,  it  may  be  as  old  as  the 
ninth  or  tenth  century.  The  tablet  is  in  three  compart 
ments,  the  lower  one  representing  the  Fall  of  Man,  the 
centre  the  Descent  from  the  Cross,  while  at  the  top  the 
Almighty  receives  the  soul  of  the  Son  in  his  arms,  and 
holds  forth  the  Banner  of  the  Cross.  Although  mutilated, 
weather-beaten,  and  partly  veiled  in  obscuring  moss  t!u> 
pathos  of  the  sculpture  makes  itself  felt  through  all  the 
grotesqueness  of  its  forms.  Goethe,  who  saw  it,  says  : 
"  The  head  of  the  sinking  Saviour  leans  against  the  coun 
tenance  of  the  mother,  and  is  gently  supported  by  her 

hand a  beautiful,  reverent  touch  of  expression   which 

we  find  in  no  other  representation  of  the  subject."      The 


464  BY-WAYS   OF   EUROPE. 

drapery  also,  though  stiff,  has  yet  the  simplicity  and  dig 
nity  which  we  so  rarely  find  in  modern  art. 

Two  of  the  rocks  may  be  ascended  by  means  of  winding 
stairways  cut  in  their  sides.  On  the  summit  of  the  first 
there  is  a  level  platform,  with  a  stone  table  in  the  centre 
—  probably  the  work  of  the  monks,  to  whom  the  place 
belonged  in  the  Middle  Ages.  By  climbing  the  central 
rock,  and  crossing  a  bridge  to  the  next,  one  reaches  a 
second  chapel,  eighteen  feet  in  length,  with  a  rock-altar  at 
the  further  end.  It  is  singular  that  there  is  no  record  of 
the  origin  of  this  remarkable  work.  We  know  that  the 
spirit  of  the  Teutonic  mythology  lived  long  after  the  intro 
duction  of  Christianity,  and  the  monks  may  have  here 
found  and  appropriated  one  of  its  sacred  places. 

By  the  time  I  reached  the  town  of  Horn,  a  mile  or  so 
from  the  base  of  the  mountains,  I  was  too  scorched  and 
weary  to  go  further  afoot,  and,  while  waiting  dinner  in  the 
guests'-room  of  the  inn,  looked  about  for  a  means  of  con 
veyance.  Three  or  four  stout  Pliilister,  drinking  beer  at 
an  adjoining  table,  were  bound  for  Steinheim,  which  was 
on  my  way  ;  and  the  landlord  said,  "  An  '  extra  post'  will 
be  expensive,  but  these  gentlemen  might  make  room  for 
you  in  their  carriage." 

They  looked  at  each  other  and  at  me.  "  We  are  already 
seven,"  said  one,  "  and  must  be  squeezed  as  it  is." 

"  By  no  means,"  I  replied  to  the  landlord  ;  "  get  me  an 
extra  post." 

Both  vehicles  were  ready  at  the  same  time.  In  the 
meantime  I  had  entered  into  conversation  with  one  of  the 
party,  —  a  bright,  cheerful  young  man,  —  and  told  him  that 
I  should  be  glad  to  have  company  on  the  way. 

"  Why  did  you  engage  an  extra  post  ? "  they  all  ex 
claimed.  "It  is  expensive!  we  are  onlyjfoe;  you  might 
have  gone  with  us,  —  we  could  easily  make  room  for 
you ! " 

Yet,  while  making  these  exclamations,  they  picked  out 


IN  THE   TEUTOBURGER  FOREST.  465 

the  oldest  and  least  companionable  of  their  party,  and 
bundled  him  into  my  "  expensive  "  carriage  !  I  never  saw 
anything  more  coolly  done.  I  had  meant  to  have  the 
agreeable,  not  the  stupid  member,  but  was  caught,  and 
could  not  help  myself.  However,  I  managed  to  extract  a 
little  amusement  from  my  companion  as  we  went  alon»-. 
He  was  a  Detmolder,  after  confessing  which  he  re 
marked,  — 

"Now  I  knew  where  you  came  from  before  you  had 
spoken  ten  words." 

"  Indeed !    Where,  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  from  Bielefeld  !  " 

My  laughter  satisfied  the  old  fellow  that  he  had  guessed 
correctly,  and  thenceforth  he.  talked  so  much  about  Biele 
feld  that  it  finally  became  impossible  to  conceal  my  igno 
rance  of  the  place.  I  set  him  down  in  Steinheim,  dis 
missed  the  extra  post,  and,  as  the  evening  was  so  bright 
and  balmy,  determined  to  go  another  stage  on  foot.  I  had 
a  letter  to  a  young  nobleman,  whose  estate  lay  near  a  vil 
lage  some  four  or  five  miles  further  on  the  road  to  Iloxter. 
The  small  boy  whom  I  took  as  guide  was  communicative ; 
the  scenery  was  of  the  sweetest  pastoral  character ;  the 
mellow  light  of  sunset  struck  athwart  the  golden  hills  of 
harvest,  the  lines  of  alder  hedge,  aiv.l  the  meadows  of 
windino-  streams,  and  I  loitered  alon<r  the  road  full  of  de- 

&  ?9 

light  in  the  renewal  of  my  old  pedestrian  freedom. 

It  was  dusk  when  I  reached  the  village.  The  one  cot 
tage  inn  did  not  promise  much  comfort;  but  the  baron's 
castle  was  beyond,  and  I  was  too  tired  to  go  further.  The 
landlord  was  a  petty  magistrate,  evidently  one  of  the  pillars 
of  the  simple  village  society ;  and  he  talked  well  and  intel 
ligently,  while  his  daughter  cooked  my  supper.  The  bare 
rooms  were  clean  and  orderly,  and  the  night  was  so  warm 
that  no  harm  was  done  when  the  huge  globe  of  feathers 
under  which  I  was  expected  to  sleep  rolled  off  the  bed  and 
lay  upon  the  floor  until  morning. 


4G6  BY-WAYS    OF   EUROPE. 

Sending  my  letter  to  the  castle,  I  presently  received  word 
that  the  young  baron  was  absent  from  home,  but  that  his 
mother  would  receive  me.  As  I  emerged  from  the  shad 
ows  of  the  narrow  village  street  into  the  breezeless,  burning 
air  of  the  morning,  the  whole  estate  lay  full  and  fair  in 
view  — a  thousand  acres  of  the  finest  harvest  land,  lying 
in  the  lap  of  a  bowl-shaped  valley,  beyond  which  rose  a 
wooded  mountain  range.  In  the  centre  of  the  landscape 
a  group  of  immemorial  oaks  and  lindens  hid  the  castle 
from  view,  but  a  broad  and  stately  linden  avenue  connected 
it  with  the  highway.  There  were  scores  of  reapers  in  the 
fields,  and  their  dwellings,  with  the  barns  and  stables, 
almost  formed  a  second  village.  The  castle  —  a  square 
mass  of  building,  with  a  paved  court-yard  in  the  centre  — 
was  about  three  hundred  years  old  ;  but  it  had  risen  upon 
the  foundations  of  a  much  older  edifice. 

The  baroness  met  me  at  the  door  with  her  two  daugh 
ters,  and  ushered  me  into  a  spacious  room,  the  ceiling  of 
which,  low  and  traversed  by  huge  beams  of  oak,  was  sup 
ported  by  a  massive  pillar  in  the  centre.  The  bare  oaken 
floor  was  brightly  polished  ;  a  gallery  of  ancestral  por 
traits  decked  the  walls,  but  the  furniture  was  modern  and 
luxurious.  After  a  friendly  scolding  for  not  claiming  the 
castle's  hospitality  the  night  before,  one  of  the  daughters 
brought  refreshments,  just  as  a  Burgfraulein  of  the  Middle 
Ages  might  have  done,  except  that  she  did  not  taste  the 
goblet  of  wine  before  offering  it.  The  ladies  then  con 
ducted  me  through  a  range  of  apartments,  every  one  of 
which  contained  some  picturesque  record  of  the  past.  The 
old  building  was  pervaded  with  a  mellow  atmosphere  of 
age  and  use  ;  although  it  was  not  the  original  seat  of  the 
family,  their  own  ancestral  heirlooms  had  adapted  them 
selves  to  its  physiognomy,  and  seemed  to  continue  its  tradi 
tions.  Just  enough  of  modern  taste  was  visible  to  suggest 
home  comforts  and  conveniences ;  all  else  seemed  as  old 
as  the  Thirty  Years'  War. 


IN   THE   TEUTonVRGER   FOREST.  -i',7 

After  inspecting  the  house,  we  issued  upon  the  phas- 
ounce — a  high  bosky  space  resting  on  the  outer  wall  of 
the  castle,  and  looking  down  upon  the  old  moat,  still  par 
tially  full  of  water.  It  was  a  labyrinth  of  shady  paths,  of 
arbors,  with  leaf-enframed  window's  opening  towards  the 
mountains,  and  of  open,  sunny  spaces  rich  with  flowers. 
The  baroness  called  my  attention  to  two  splendid  magno 
lia-trees,  and  a  clump  of  the  large  Japanese  polyyonum. 
"  This,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  latter,  "  was  given  to  my 
husband  by  Dr.  von  Siebold,  who  brought  it  from  Japan  : 
the  magnolias  came  from  seeds  planted  forty  years  ago.'* 
Tlrey  were  the  most  northern  specimens  of  the  trees  I  had 
found  upon  the  continent  of  Europe.  But  the  oaks  and 
lindens  around  the  castle  were  more  wonderful  than  these 
exotic  growths.  Each  one  was  "  a  forest  waving  on  a  single 
stem." 

The  young  baron  was  not  expected  to  return  before  the 
evening,  and  I  was  obliged  to  continue  my  journey,  though 
every  feature  of  the  place  wooed  me  to  stay.  "  But  at 
least,"  urged  the  hostess,  "you  must  visit  my  husband's 
twin  brother,  who  is  still  living  at  the  old  Imnj.  We  were 
going  to  send  for  him  to-day,  and  we  will  send  you  alon-:." 
This  was  a  lift  on  my  way  ;  and,  moreover,  it  was  a  pleas 
ure  to  meet  a  gentleman  of  whom  I  had  heard  so  much  — 
a  thinker,  a  man  of  scientific  culture,  and  a  poet,  yet  un 
known  to  the  world  in  either  of  these  characters. 

The  youngest  daughter  of  the  house  made  ready  to  ac 
company  me,  and  presently  a  light  open  wagon,  drawn  by 
a  span  of  ponies,  came  to  the  door.     After  my  yesterday's 
tramp  in  the  forest  it  was  a  delightful  change.     The  vomit; 
lady  possessed  as  much  intelligence  as  refinement,  and  with 
her  as  a  guide  the  rich  scenery  through  which  we  \ 
assumed  a  softer  life,  a  more  gracious  sentiment.     From 
the  ridge  before  us  rose  the  lofty  towers  of  a  dun 
tachedto  an  extinct  monastery,  the  massive  buildings  of 
which  are  now  but  half  tenanted  by  some  farmers;  on  the 


468  BY-WAYS   OF  EUROPE. 

right  a  warm  land  of  grain  stretched  away  to  the  Teuto- 
burger  Forest;  on  the  left,  mountains  clothed  with  beech 
and  oak  basked  in  the  sun.  We  passed  the  monastery, 
crossed  a  wood,  and  dropped  into  a  wild,  lonely  valley 
among  the  hills.  Here  the  Oldenburg,  as  it  is  called,  al 
ready  towrered  above  us,  perched  upon  the  bluff  edge  of  a 
mountain  cape.  It  was  a  single  square  mass  of  the  brownest 
masonry,  seventy  or  eighty  feet  high,  with  a  huge,  steep, 
and  barn-like  roof.  It  dominated  alone  over  the  beech 
woods ;  no  other  human  habitation  was  in  sight. 

When  we  reached  the  summit,  however,  I  found  that 
the  old  building  ^yas  no  longer  tenanted.  Behind  it  lay  a 

o  C5  * 

pond,  around  which  were  some  buildings  connected  with  the 
estate,  and  my  fair  guide  led  the  way  to  the  further  door 
of  a  house  in  which  the  laboring  people  lived.  She  went 
to  seek  her  uncle,  while  I  waited  in  a  room  so  plainly  fur 
nished  that  an  American  farmer  would  have  apologized  for 
it.  Presently  I  was  summoned  up  stairs,  where  the  old 
baron  caught  me  by  both  hands,  and  pressed  me  down  into 
his  own  arm-chair  before  it  was  possible  to  say  a  word. 
His  room  was  as  simple  as  the  first ;  but  books  and  water- 
color  drawings  showed  the  tastes  of  its  occupant. 

It  was  truly  the  head  of  a  poet  upon  which  I  looked. 
Deep-set,  spiritual  eyes  shone  under  an  expansive  brow, 
over  wjiich  fell  some  thin  locks  of  silky  gray  hair;  the 
nose  was  straight  and  fine,  with  delicate,  sensitive  nostrils, 
and  there  was  a  rare  expression  of  sweetness  and  purity 
in  the  lines  of  the  mouth.  It  needed  no  second  glance  to 
see  that  the  old  man  was  good  and  wise  and  noble  and  per 
fectly  lovable.  My  impulse  was  to  sit  on  a  stool  at  his 
feet,  as  I  have  seen  a  young  English  poet  sitting  at  the 
feet  of  good  Barry  Cornwall,  and  talk  to  him  with  my 
arms  resting  upon  his  knees.  But  he  drew  his  chair  close 
beside  me,  and  took  my  hand  from  time  to  time,  as  he 
talked  ;  so  that  it  was  not  long  before  our  thoughts  ran  to 
gether,  and  each  anticipated  the  words  of  the  other. 


IX   THE   TKUTOBUBGER   FOKKST.  469 

"  Now  tell  me  about  my  friend,"  said  he.  •*  We  were 
inseparable  as  students,  and  as  long  as  our  paths  lay  near 
each  other.  They  say  that  three  are  too  many  for  friend 
ship,  but  we  twin-brothers  only  counted  as  one  in  the  bond. 
We  had  but  one  heart  and  one  mind,  except  in  matters  of 
science,  and  there  it  was  curious  to  see  how  far  apart  we 
sometimes  were.  Ah,  what  rambles  we  had  together,  in 
Germany  and  on  the  Alps!  I  remember  once  we  were 
merry  in  the  Thiiringian  Forest,  for  there  was  wine  enough 
and  to  spare  ;  so  we  buried  a  bottle  deep  among  the  rocks. 
We  had  forgotten  all  about  it  when,  a  year  or  two  after 
wards,  we  happened  all  three  to  come  back  to  the  spot,  and 
there  we  dug  up  the  bottle,  and  drank  what  seemed  to  be 
the  best  wine  in  the  world.  I  wonder  if  he  remembers 
that  I  wrote  a  poem  about  it." 

Then  we  walked  out  through  the  beech  woods  to  a  point 
of  the  mountain  whence  there  was  a  view  of  the  monastery 
across  the  wild  valley.  "  It  was  but  yesterday,"  said  the 
old  baron,  "  since  I  stood  here  with  my  brother  —  both 
little  boys  —  and  listened  to  the  chimes  of  vesper.  There 
were  monks  in  the  old  building  then.  What  is  life,  after 
all  ?  I  don't  understand  it.  My  brother  was  a  part  of  my 
self.  We  had  but  one  life  ;  he  married  and  his  home  was 
mine  ;  his  children  are  mine  still.  We  were  born  together ; 
three  years  ago  he  died,  and  I  should  have  died  at  the 
same  time.  How  is  it  that  I  live  ?  " 

He  turned  to  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  a  sad,  mys 
terious  wonder  in  his  voice.  I  could  only  shake  my  head, 
for  he  who  could  have  answered  the  question  would  be 
able  to  solve  all  the  enigmas  of  life.  The  man  seemed  to 
me  like  a  semi-ghost,  attached  to  the  earth  by  only  half  the 
relation  of  other  men.  "  I  live  here  as  you  see,"  he  con 
tinued  ;  "but  I  am  not  lonely.  All  my  life  of  seventy- 
three  years  I  have  been  laying  aside  interest  for  this  sea 
son.  I  have  still  my  thoughts  and  questions,  as  well  as  my 
memories.  I  am  part  of  the  great  design  which  I  have 


470  BY -AY  AYS    OF   EUROPE. 

always  found  in  the  world  and  in  man,  and  1  have  learned 
enough  to  accept  what  I  cannot  fathom." 

These  were  brave  and  wise  words,  and  they  led  on  to 
others,  as  we  walked  in  the  shadows  of  the  beech  woods, 
until  summoned  to  dinner.  The  baron's  niece  superin 
tended  the  meal,  and  a  farmer's  daughter  waited  at  the 
table.  I  was  forced  to  decline  a  kind  invitation  to  return 
to  the  castle  with  the  old  man,  and  spend  the  night  there 
—  for  I  could  take  but  a  brief  holiday  in  the  Teutoburger 
Forest.  Then  they  proposed  taking  me  to  the  town  of 
Hoxter,  on  the  Weser,  whither  I  was  bound ;  but  while  I 
was  trying  to  dissuade  the  young  lady  from  a  further  drive 
of  ten  miles,  the  sound  of  a  horn  suddenly  broke  the  soli 
tude  of  the  woods.  A  post-carriage  came  in  sight,  drove 
to  the  door,  and  from  it  descended  the  Kreisrichter  (Dis 
trict  Judge),  on  a  visit  to  the  old  baron.  As  I  noticed  that 
he  intended  remaining  for  the  night,  I  proposed  taking  the 
carriage  by  which  he  had  arrived,  though  I  should  have 
preferred  making  the  journey  on  foot. 

It  was  so  arranged,  and  half  an  hour  afterwards  I  took 
leave  of  the  noble  old  man,  with  the  promise  —  which  all 
the  battle-fields  of  Hermann  and  Wittekind  would  not  have 
suggested  to  me  —  of  some  day  returning  to  the  Teuto 
burger  Forest.  Leaving  the  mountains  behind  me,  I  fol 
lowed  a  road  which  slowly  descended  to  the  Weser  through 
the  fairest  winding  valleys,  and  before  sunset  reached 
Hoxter.  A  mile  further,  at  the  bend  of  the  river,  is  the 
ancient  Abbey  of  Corvey,  where,  in  the  year  1515,  the  first 
six  books  of  the  Annals  of  Tacitus,  up  to  that  time  lost, 
were  discovered.  The  region  which  that  great  historian 
has  alone  described,  thus  preserved  and  gave  back  to  the 
world  a  portion  of  his  works. 


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r  s 


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W.  Bacon.  I  vol.  I2mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

"We  are  quite  sure  that  these  Discourses  will  increase  Father  Hyacinthe's  repu 
tation  among  us,  as  a  man  of  rare  intellectual  power,  genuine  eloquence,  ripe  scholar 
ship  and  most  generous  sympathies."  —  National  Baptist,  Philadelphia. 

"  The  Discourses  will  be  found  fully  up  to  the  high  expectation  formed  from  tho 
great  priest's  protests  against  the  trammels  of  Romish  dogmatism."  —  Roclitster 
Democrat. 

HYACINTHE.  THE  FAMILY.  A  Series  of  Discourses 
by  Father  Hyacinthe.  To  which  are  added,  The  Educa 
tion  of  the  Working  Classes  ;  The  Church—  Six  Confer 
ences  ;  Speeches  and  Addresses—  including  the  Address 
at  the  Academy  of  Music,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  9,  1869.  With  an 
Historical  Introduction  from  Putnam's  Magazine.  [By  Hon 
John  Bigelow.]  I  vol.  I2mo,  $1.50. 
N.B.—  Both  books  are  published  under  Father  Hyacinthe's 

sanction,  and  he  receives  a  copyright  on  the  sales. 


IO  Publications  of 

WASHINGTON  IRV[\G>S   WORKS. 

FOUR   EDITIONS,    VIZ.  : 

IRVING'S  WORKS.  THE  WORKS  OF  WASHINGTON 
IRVING,  INCLUDING  THE  LIFE  OF  IRVING,  BY  HIS 
NEPHEW,  PIERRE  M.  IRVING. 

I.  SUNNYSIDE  EDITION.     In  twenty-eight  vo 
lumes  12 mo.     Cloth,  $63  (reduced  from  $70) ;   half  calf,  gilt, 
or  antique,  $112  ;  full  calf  extra,  $140;  full  morocco  extra, 
$150. 

II.  THE  KNICKERBOCKER  EDITION.  Large 
I2tno,  on  superfine  laid  paper,  with  Illustrations,  elegantly 
printed  from  new  stereotype  plates,  and  bound  in  extra  cloth, 
gilt  top.  Per  volume,  cloth,  $2.50  ;  half  calf,  $4.  In  sets, 
including  Life,  27  vols.,  cloth,  $67.50;  half  calf,  $108  ; 
without  Lifey  24  vols.,  $60  ;  half  calf,  $96. 

1 1 1.  THE  RIVERSIDE  EDITION.— i6mo,  on  fine 

white  paper  ;  from  new  stereotype  plates  ;  green  crape  cloth, 

gilt  top,  bevelled  edges,  $1.75  per  vol. ;  half  calf,  $3.25  per  vol. 

In  sets,  23  vols.,  cloth,  $40  ;  half  calf,  $69.     With  "  Life  of 

Irving,"  26  vols.,  $45  ;  half  calf,  $84.50. 

IV.  THE  PEOPLE'S  EDITION.— From  the  same 

stereotype  plates  as  above,  but  printed  on  cheaper  paper, 
neatly  bound  in  cloth;  price,  $1.25  per  vol.  In  sets,  23 
vols.,  $29  ;  with  "  Life,"  26  vols.,  $32.50. 

IRVING'S  LIGHTER  WORKS.  Riverside  Edition. 
Elegantly  printed  on  toned  paper,  and  illustrated  with  ap 
propriate  vignettes.  Eight  volumes  i6mo,  vellum  cloth, 
gilt  tops,  $14;  cloth,  gilt  edges,  $16;  half  calf,  $26.  Sepa 
rate  vols.,  $1.75)  $2?  and  #3-25- 

The  "Riverside  Edition"  of  Irving' s  works  comprises  all  the  "  Belles-Lettrei 


Works,"  complete  in  eight  volumes. 


Knickerbocker, 
Talcs  of  a  Traveller, 
Wulfert's  Roost, 


Crayon  Miscellany, 
llracebridge  Hall, 
Alhambra, 


Oliver  Goldsmith, 
Sketch- Book. 


***  The  publishers  desire  to  call  special  attention  to  this  edition,  as  presenting 
these  classics  in  the  most  enjoyable  form. 

The  volume  is  just  the  convenient  size  to  hold  in  the  hand,  and  neatly  bound  in 
plain  green  muslin  with  gold  top.  Its  typography  is  unexceptional— a  beautiful  let 
ter,  perfectly  impressed,  and  the  printi.i£  done  with  care  and  elegance. — Hartfvrd 


TURN 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

202  Main  Library 


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DUE  AS 

STAMPED  BELOW 

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REC.  CIR.     APR  10    1! 

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O   DD  6    40m   10 '77      UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKE 

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